A/N: You all have the patience of saints! Here's your finale just in time for Christmas! Hope you enjoy. ^_^
Chapter 7: Echoes
Usagi's eyes blinked open and she stared up at the familiar blank white ceiling of Rei's room. Usually when she woke up staring at this particular ceiling, she was waking up from an injury caused by youma, but this time nothing hurt; she felt completely fine. No different than normal.
It was too quiet, though. The silence was almost foreign, and it roared in her ears. She didn't like it. Not at all. She rolled to her side towards Mamoru, who was lying on the other side of the room on his own sleeping roll.
Their eyes locked and she started. His bright cobalt gaze felt heavy on her. She hadn't even realized he had been awake. He wasn't smiling. He was just lying there with a white cotton sheet still draped over the lower half of his form with dozens of wired leads coming from his head and chest.
She had no idea what he was thinking.
She hated it.
Usagi scrambled into a sitting position, tearing the leads from her hair.
"Good mo…" he said.
"Mamo…" she spoke simultaneously.
They both broke off immediately.
She blinked at him for a moment, fiddling with the hem of her dress. His beautiful mouth turned down into a frown.
Usagi bit her lower lip, feeling uncertain. Couldn't he throw her a bone or something? "How are you g-"
"What do you…" he said at the same time.
"Kami-sama!" she cursed, her hands balled into fists at her side. "This is so…"
"Frustrating?" he readily supplied, his eyes never leaving hers.
Usagi wilted at the word. "I was going to say ridiculous," she whispered, glancing away from him, to the far end of his cot, unable to meet his eyes, lest he saw the tears that burned at the edges.
It was such a stupid thing to be upset about. So what if they didn't think of the exact same word?!
Mamoru reached across the small gap between their rolls, took her hand, and squeezed it.
She clung to his hand like it was a lifeline, the only connection with him that she had left, as she struggled to get a hold of her tears. He didn't move or say anything. Not even his expression - currently a mask of stoicism - flickered.
It wasn't fair. She didn't have that level of control.
"I-I'm sorry," she managed through her hiccups. "I… I didn't think it would hit me this hard," she confessed.
He glanced away for a second. She searched his face, his body, for any clues at all, but she still had no idea what he was thinking.
He cleared his throat. "Maybe we should take a few days apart."
"What?!" Usagi shrieked, the exclamation sounding shrill and strangled even in her own ears. She clamped on his hand harder.
"Just for a few days," he assured her. "To sort ourselves out."
"But!" she immediately objected, but there was nothing to add to the sentence. She had no argument. He was the one that came up with arguments.
She searched his swirling eyes, trying to see or feel past the invisible barrier that manifested between them. Just a glimpse was all she asked for. Anything at all.
But their easy intimacy was gone. No thoughts or feelings stretched between them. There was only a painful blankness where he used to be, like he was behind a piece of glass. She could see him, but she couldn't touch him.
She hated it.
"Yeah okay," she agreed softly, her eyes falling into her hands.
She didn't say anything else. She didn't say anything as Mamoru slowly peeled away the leads attached to his temples, forehead, and scalp. She remained silent as he put on the suit jacket she had pulled out of his drawers just that morning. Her eyes locked onto his cufflinks. Those had been his father's - one of the few things he had inherited from his parents. And she now knew that.
The door slid open just as Mamoru had risen back to his feet.
"Oh!" Ami exclaimed in surprise. "You're both awake! How are you feeling?"
"Fine," Mamoru reported, his voice smooth and easy. Was he telling the truth, or was he hiding everything behind a social mask?
Usagi couldn't tell!
She offered Ami a smile that felt more like a grimace, but she didn't trust herself to speak.
Her friend glanced down at the computer tablet in her hands. "According to my scans, the separation seems to have been a complete success! But I wanted to ask if you were experiencing any headaches," she turned to each of them expectantly.
Usagi's head felt fine. There was no pain at all, which almost felt strange after months of the constant dull ache.
But it also felt empty, dark, and quiet.
She would have happily taken the headache back to keep her mental companion.
She choked back a sob.
"Did you need anything else from me?" Mamoru was asking.
"Not today, but I would like to examine you again in about a week's time," Ami told him.
He nodded. "Thank you for everything, Ami-san," Mamoru said with a polite bow to their medical caretaker.
"Of course, Mamoru-san," Ami replied.
He turned back toward Usagi who was still sitting on the side of her makeshift bed. She stared at him, not daring to breathe, waiting for him to say something.
Anything.
He opened his mouth only to close it again. He just stood there awkwardly without words, before he settled on a nod and then he turned away again, not even saying goodbye.
The second the door closed she burst into tears.
This was a mistake. A terrible mistake. Not being able to feel him in the back of her mind had been horrible enough, but not being able to see him… that was ten million times worse!
Usagi barely noticed the gentle arms that wrapped around her in consolation, but Usagi found no comfort.
She had never felt so completely alone.
…
Mamoru walked to the bus stop from the temple on autopilot. He sat in the seat, staring unseeing out the window to the cemetery to pick up his car and then drove home. He could not have recounted anything along the journey, too numb to process anything he was seeing.
His apartment was exactly as he had left it. Immaculately clean aside from the coffee cup Usagi had pressed into his hands the morning before, open and spacious with space to think, and tastefully decorated to his own preferences.
He dropped his coat beside him as he fell into his couch without thought for the mess. He hadn't even removed his shoes. He just stared at the wall above his massive, cutting-edge entertainment system. His gaze landed on the piece of modern art above the sixty-inch screen. It was an abstract black and white piece. He had liked the visual design of spirals and hard angles harmonizing and clashing in different quadrants of the canvas.
Now, he hated it. It lacked color and sentimentality. It literally meant nothing to him on a personal level.
He stayed there, unmoving and staring at the geometric design for close to an hour. He didn't move. Not once.
Then, out of nowhere he leapt to his feet and tore the offending image from the wall, unable to stand it for a second longer. He would have to replace it. Usagi had pictures of those important to her everywhere in her room. He wanted that. He wanted people. And more than anyone, he just wanted her.
His eyes burned, and his throat sealed itself closed. He hadn't cried in ten years, and now it had been twice in as many days.
He fought to collect himself.
You need to let this out. You need to talk, or cry, or something.
And with that thought, he lost the battle and stopped trying to fight his grief. His own head sounded like her. He wanted it to be her. He hated that it wasn't. He fell back to the couch as the tears sprang from his eyes, unrestrained.
Usagi would have been proud of him.
He didn't even really completely understand what he was crying over. Usagi wasn't gone. He could still see her every day if he wanted. But he had always struggled to make connections with other people. It was something that was always hard, borderlining on impossible. The mental connection had made it so easy. As easy and natural as breathing.
And now, in an instant, it was gone. Had dissipated like smoke.
He knew that Usagi wouldn't abandon him. She wouldn't abandon anyone. But that was the point. She had so many people who loved her in his life. She didn't need him.
Not the way that he needed her.
She thought that she loved him. And god, he wanted to believe that her feelings were real! But he was terrified that his mind, which had craved her attention and care for years now, had influenced and manipulated her.
Because in the ocean of wonderful friends and doting family, what was special about him? When she could no longer hear his thoughts and feelings as if they were her own, would he stand out to her at all?
She was light personified.
He was dark, brooding, and lonely.
Would she care about his loneliness when she could no longer feel it?
He didn't know. He had wanted to pull her close the moment that he had woken up and seen her lying there. Wanted to spend every waking moment in her company.
But she deserved the chance to sort things out, to see how she really felt. And if she did love him, he would be there. But if she didn't…
He clutched a dark blue throw pillow to his chest.
If she didn't, he would have to find a way to make peace with that. He didn't deserve her anyway.
Mamoru eventually fell asleep there on the couch. He woke up hours later, immediately threw on his jacket, but didn't have to bother with shoes as he had never taken them off. He was out the door a minute later.
He had to go to no less than four different stores to find everything that he had wanted, and his last stop was the conbini closest to his apartment complex. He made it home five hours later and quickly unpacked.
He had bought a set of pink dishes, colorful puffy throw blankets, and picture frames. He didn't have any pictures to put in them yet, but he was determined to change that.
His unpacking all done, he pulled out the mochi roll, put it on a bright pink plate, and bit into it. It was the first one he had ever had.
And it was good. Soft and sweet.
But the magic of experiencing the food just wasn't quite there. Usagi's enjoyment of food was somehow a spiritual and sensual experience all at once. And remembering what that felt like just wasn't quite the same; it was like recalling a dream.
The moments they had shared over the last few months felt like a dream. The memory of what Usagi felt like mentally was fading fast, and the more he tried to grip on those feelings and thoughts, the faster they seemed to slip through his fingers.
But one thing was very clear.
He missed her.
No, that was too mild for what he felt. He ached for her, wished for her with a longing so strong he could not put words to it.
He wanted to call her so he could hear her voice.
Her number wasn't even in his phone. He fixed that immediately.
He stared at the contact for several minutes. He knew that she would want him to reach out to her, but he couldn't let himself do it. She deserved to have the space to clear her head and sort through her own feelings without him there mucking every bit of that up.
Because if he saw her, he was going to kiss her. There wasn't any way to avoid it. And she might just latch onto him. And kami-sama, she deserved better. She had to be seeing sense now that his own desires were not clouding her judgement.
Right?
The next day, he went to his classes again. He had expected it to be easier to concentrate on the academic work, had even hoped that engaging the analytical part of his brain would be a stimulating distraction. But he found the opposite to be true. He couldn't focus at all. When he wasn't pining about her, he was flat-out bored.
Learning just wasn't as much fun. He hadn't realized before how much he loved getting to peek into Usagi's world and see what she was doing. And that little bit of joy had just made it easier to get through the day.
Now, everything just seemed positively mundane.
He knew the cure, but he avoided the arcade and his normal route to the university where they were likely to cross paths. Instead, he drove more often than he walked, and was eating lunch at the student union every day.
He hated it, but he knew that if he saw her, he wouldn't be able to resist, and he was determined to give her some time. At least a week.
But Kami-sama, he missed her.
...
It had taken hours to stop crying. Her whole body was sore from the wracking sobs that had seemed endless. The girls didn't try to make her feel better, they didn't ask questions, they just piled on top of her on her cot in Rei's back room, and held her tight as she cried for what felt like forever. Every time she had thought she had to be out of tears, another wave would hit her like a tsunami. And every time, Minako and Rei would squeeze her tighter, Ami would rub her back reassuringly, and Makoto would nuzzle her hands.
She clung to them - the warmth of their contact the only thing reminding her that she wasn't alone. And that, quite frankly, she never would be. They would always be there with her through everything.
Makoto had taken her home after she had finally stopped crying and gotten her settled into the puffy pink blankets that adorned her bed. And her friend must have said something to Usagi's mother, because the older woman had come in a few minutes later with two bowls of ice cream and settled next to her daughter.
"You and Mamoru-san broke up?" her mother asked.
Her throat tightened at the question, and her eyes somehow found more tears to call upon, and Usagi was trembling slightly all over again.
Her mother hugged her tighter. "Shhh… oh Usagi… it will be okay. I promise there will be other boys."
Usagi shook her head in agitation. "We didn't break up… well, we sorta did, but not for the reasons you think. He… had to go away. I don't know if he'll come back."
Her mom rubbed her back, consolingly. "Well, if he does, that's how you know it was meant to be."
Usagi nodded, and finally took the offered bowl of ice cream. She spent the evening crying and even eventually giggling with her mom. It didn't replace the hole in her chest, but it made her believe that she could be okay again.
The next day was significantly better, even though she woke up at some ungodly hour. It was like there was some phantom training of Mamoru's anxiety that wouldn't let her sleep past six. The echo wasn't strong enough to get her out of bed though and she just lay there, unwilling to face the day without his solid presence in the back of her head.
Eventually though, the silence she could not fill with her own thoughts, drove her out of the warmth of her blankets. She had to move to distract herself. She started by turning her room back into a scattered mess of disorganized chaos that felt more like her natural habitat.
Except for her shelves of manga.
Those stayed carefully alphabetized.
The next day was Monday. Which meant school.
Mamoru didn't come to pick her up, so naturally she was twenty minutes late. But the panicked run against time made her feel almost normal. It wasn't until she was settled into her seat for her first class that she felt his absence.
History was just so boring.
Not that she would have been able to pay attention even if the subject had been more interesting. So she dove back into old habits and started drawing chibi-tuxedo masks all over her worksheet.
Go ahead. Do your worst.
He always had some playful or snide critique of her scribbles.
She waited a whole ten seconds before she realized the mental silence would not be filled. Because he wasn't there. He couldn't see her doodles.
She burst into tears.
The whole class started in her direction, but Usagi was too distraught to notice or care. She just buried her head in her arms and let herself cry once again.
She recognized the feel of Ami's hands urging her to her feet and guiding her out of the classroom. The whispered commentary of her classmates cut off when the door closed behind them.
Ami immediately wrapped her in a hug, but Usagi was sick of them all worrying about her and she pushed away.
"Usagi-chan?" Ami said, her teeth cutting into her bottom lip in concern. "What happened?"
Usagi frantically scrubbed the tears off her own face. "It was dumb. You should go back inside," she insisted.
"Are you sure?"
Usagi nodded. "You don't need to miss class on my account. Seriously."
When Ami was gone, Usagi let herself slide down against the hallway wall until she was huddled with her knees pulled into her chest.
Against her better judgement, she pulled out her phone, and pulled up her text history with Mamoru-baka.
It was empty. There wasn't any text history. There hadn't been a need. She had only added his number into her phone after they were mind-melded, but they never had used it. What would have been the point when they could just think at each other? He hadn't even given her the number. She just knew it! Like it had been her own phone number.
She tapped out a message.
Hey! How are you?
She deleted it immediately. It was too formal and too casual all at the same time.
What are you up to?
Nope. That wasn't it either. Because she didn't care what he was doing. She wanted to know what he was thinking!
But she couldn't ask that! They were supposed to be sorting themselves out.
That's what he had said anyway. She didn't know what he meant. And she hated that!
What was she supposed to be sorting? She didn't know! And she didn't care! She didn't care which bits of her psyche were pure Usagi and which had been "contaminated" with the baka's thoughts. She didn't care if he had influenced her feelings. They were there now, and she was feeling them! And what she knew more than anything now was that she wanted him in her life as much as possible. She missed him.
Mamo-chan, I miss you.
The four words gleamed from her screen. This was it. This was what she wanted to say.
But she didn't send it either. He had pushed her away. She didn't know what that meant really, but she wanted to respect the barriers he had set. So she would wait until he reached out first.
She let her phone clatter uselessly to the ground and cried into her knees.
He was so stubborn. Would he ever talk to her again? He had so many other choices now without being saddled with some teenage girl. Did he really love her? Or did he just think that he did because he understood her having heard every thought and feeling?
So what if she was Sailor Moon and he was Tuxedo Mask? She was still just clumsy, ditzy, and academically challenged. Not to mention, completely ridiculous.
He liked that you were ridiculous.
She clung to that knowledge. That had been one of the first things that he had inadvertently shared on the first day of their mind meld.
She scrubbed the tears from her cheeks and forced herself to her feet. He would come back. She knew that he would. She just had to be patient. She would show him that she could be strong. That she could wait for him to figure stuff out if that was what he needed her to do.
She headed back into class and back to her seat, determined to get through the day without crying.
Later that day, Usagi sat at the low table where they often gathered for senshi meetings at the temple. Rei had provided tea, while the five girls alternated between pointless chit chat and trying to complete their homework.
Usagi couldn't stay engaged in the gossip much to her own dismay, and so she was trying to distract herself with math homework.
Definitely the dumbest idea ever.
But it was something that Mamoru would have done to avoid what he was feeling. It might have even worked if she could do the problems, but they were proving almost beyond challenging at the moment.
She slammed her pencil down on the table, growling in frustration. "I could do this so easily last week!" she shrieked.
"That's because you weren't the one doing it," Rei commented drly, her gaze focused on her own set of notes across the table.
"Rei-chan," the blonde whined. "Don't be so mean."
"Maybe Mamoru-san could tutor you or something, Usagi-chan," Ami suggested warmly, sliding to sit closer to her. "He probably has a really good idea of how you think now."
Usagi didn't answer. Her gaze stayed focused on the two lines of equations that she did not know what to do with.
The girls exchanged concerned looks. Usagi pretended not to notice. She hated when they worried about her, and at the same time she knew that she needed to be worried about. She was not okay.
The room remained silent.
Makoto was the one to break it. "How is Mamoru-san?" the brunette asked gently.
"I don't know," Usagi admitted casually, idly tracing the numbers and letters in the first row of equations. In an instant, she shoved the paper away, and lost what little remained of her composure. "I hate that I don't know!" she screamed. "I don't know that he's okay. What if he was in a car accident this morning? What if he's sick and dying? Or he might just be having a really bad day, where he needs some chocolate or a hug, but just can't admit it to anyone? Will anyone even notice?"
"Usagi-chan?" Minako broke in.
"Yeah?"
"Why don't you call him?" she asked with gentle patience.
Usagi pulled at her hair. "Because he wanted a break! Time for us to sort ourselves out or something. Maybe he was just sick of me. Maybe he understands how ditzy I am now that he is free of my thoughts and influence!"
Makoto and Minako exchanged a look. Rei outright snorted.
"For someone who shared his mind you're being remarkably dense!" Rei exclaimed.
"What do you mean?" Usagi asked.
"That boy is in love with you!" the miko shouted.
Usagi wanted to believe that so bad. "Do you think so?" Her voice was sullen and quiet, and her blue eyed gaze refused to look up into any of the understanding faces that surrounded her.
Rei threw her hands up in frustration. "Do I think so?! Usagi-chan! You were in his head! What was his opinion of you?!"
Usagi bit her lip and looked at her nails. "Umm… that's kind of private."
Rei raised an eyebrow and Usagi blushed.
"Yeah, I guess you're right," the blonde admitted. "You don't have to be so mean about it," she whined.
Rei screamed in frustration. The other girls giggled.
"The point is, Usagi," Rei continued, "If Mamoru wanted a break, it probably has nothing to do with him not loving you."
"Yeah," Usagi agreed, biting her lower lip. "He probably doesn't think he deserves me," she whispered.
"He's not wrong," Minako commented.
Usagi glared at her. "Don't say that. Everyone deserves love."
…
Mamoru was halfway through lunch when the happy chime Usagi had picked out to signal a text message went off. He couldn't tear it out of his pocket fast enough.
Do I need to send out a search party?
Disappointment surged through him. He had hoped…
He sighed. Motoki was probably right to be worried. He tried to think of a response, but nothing seemed right, so he quickly dialed his friend.
"Where the hell have you been? Are you okay?" Motoki yelled into the phone before Mamoru had even said hello.
"I'm… fine," Mamoru said, his response fell woefully short even in his own ears. It wasn't true for one, and it didn't really address even half of what was going on with him, but how could Mamoru ever explain?
"Then why haven't I seen you in… how long has it been, anyway?"
"Ten days," Mamoru reported dutifully. Not that Mamoru was counting or anything. Except that he was counting how many days it had been since he had seen Usagi. And he hadn't seen Motoki since the day before that.
"Exactly. So what is going on…?"
"I've been avoiding the arcade."
"Are you mad at me or something?"
Mamoru was thrown. "What?! No! Of course not! I… I was worried about running into Usagi," he admitted.
The confession was met with silence.
"Motoki-kun?" Mamoru prompted.
"Did… did the two of you break up?" his friend asked, his voice oozing with concern.
"We were never actually together," Mamoru insisted. They had spent so much time together on what he supposed could be considered dates, he lived in her mind, they had woken up in each other's arms more than a few times.
But they had never said the words. Never defined what they were.
Motoki snorted outright. "You are probably the only person that believes that."
"What are you talking about?"
"Mamoru-kun! I've known you for a long time. You don't always understand what you mean to others or what others mean to you. You've always liked Usagi-chan," Motoki explained patiently.
Mamoru didn't disagree with his friend's assessment.
"And something changed between you and her these last few months. I've never seen you so relaxed, so comfortable in your own skin, or smiling this much. You are totally in love with her."
Mamoru didn't argue.
"I miss her," Mamoru admitted.
"And she's in love with you, too."
Mamoru closed his eyes against the words of assurance. He wanted them to be true. He hoped and prayed that they were. But he couldn't push away the doubt and he couldn't explain to Motoki why he doubted at all. If Usagi has been feeling his feelings, of course it would have looked like she was in love with him from the outside.
"What happened?" Motoki asked, breaking into his thoughts..
Mamoru shrugged even though he knew his friend couldn't see him. "We thought it best to spend some time apart."
"Why?" Motoki's tone was never endingly patient.
"To sort ourselves out. We've been joined at the hip, and thought it wasn't clear which parts were mine and which parts were hers."
"Was this her idea? Or yours?"
Mamoru ran a hand through his hair at the barely disguised accusation, but said nothing to defend himself.
"Yeah… that's what I thought." Motoki sighed through the phone. "And are you sorted yet?"
Mamoru didn't know if he would ever be sorted. Usagi has turned his world upside down, and now it didn't seem as bright without her in his head. The cynical side was stronger in him – too strong to appreciate dancing in the rain or the beauty of a flower in bloom. And people's body language had gone back to being mostly a mystery. Except, it was almost like he had an inkling that something was going on when an expression would flash across a face, but he couldn't figure out what it was. It felt like an arm was missing. He would adapt and he would be fine, but suddenly he could feel the lack he hadn't been aware of prior to his experience.
"Honestly, I'm more confused than ever," he admitted.
"Maybe you should go talk to her."
"Yeah," Mamoru agreed. He didn't even know what he was waiting for anymore. He had waited the week that he promised himself he would plus an extra three days. He wanted to talk to her, wanted to see her, wanted to know what she was thinking, with every fiber of his being.
But he was afraid. Afraid that the magic wouldn't be there when communication and shared intimacy wasn't automatic. He was terrified that she hadn't reached out to him yet. Maybe she had already realized that she didn't need him. Not the way he needed her.
But Motoki was correct. This distance had been his idea. So when his friend wished him luck and the call had ended, he pulled up his text thread with Usagi, which was mockingly empty. He didn't even know what to say to her. He supposed it didn't matter though.
Hope you're well.
The message felt stiff and inadequate, but he sent it anyway. She would fill in the gaps.
She always did.
Immediately three dots appeared showing she was responding. And then they went away, only to come back. And the pattern continued. But he still received nothing. It was driving him crazy! Because he had no idea what she was thinking. It was a full two agonizing hours later when he finally got a response.
I'm okay. I miss you.
Her words filled him with warmth. But it wasn't enough. He wanted more. His thumbs immediately tapped out a reply.
Can I see you tomorrow?
He barely had pressed send before his phone chimed happily with her response.
YES! Just tell me when and where!
…
There were butterflies in her stomach. She was nervous. Which was dumb. This was Mamoru-baka! And he had literally spent months in her head. She didn't need to worry about making a good first impression, and she knew that.
But, she was still nervous. She hadn't seen him in ten days. The longest ten days of her life!
And she still wasn't certain where she stood with him.
But when the final period of the day ended, she tore out of the school building. She hadn't waved goodbye to her teacher or to her friends. She had just taken off as if a tsunami was after her. And she didn't slow down until she was right outside the Crown.
When her eyes landed on him through the glass door, sitting at his usual stool, she stopped in her tracks, her pulse quickened and her stomach fluttered.
She had never seen anything so beautiful. And it wasn't because he had obviously taken the time to present himself well. He clearly had! From the slim fit jeans that emphasized all the right parts, the blue shirt that brought out his eyes, to the way he styled his hair in a careful balance between cultivated smoothness and a tumbled natural look.
It wasn't any of that that stole her breath away. It was just that it was him. And that made the sense of empty wrongness that had been haunting her, fade away completely. His warm solid presence just centered her completely.
She wanted… no, she needed to touch him.
He turned and his cobalt eyes landed on her and his beautiful face lit up like a firework, golden and sparkly. If she had any doubt about how he felt, it was erased in that instant. She found herself moving toward him like they were oppositely charged ions.
And now he had her thinking in science metaphors. Damn him!
"Usako," he whispered. Her name on his lips sent shivers through her form, and she closed the last step remaining between them. She looked up into his eyes, which were swirling with an intensity she could not interpret. Though it felt like if she squinted she could almost read the thoughts behind his mysterious blue orbs. It was like a word on the tip of her tongue that she couldn't quite find.
"How are you?" he asked. And it was so formal and polite and she literally wanted to smack him.
But instead, she took a deep breath and answered. "I'm well," she told him stoically. "You?"
He turned away for a second, peering into his coffee. "Things are okay enough. It is good to see you."
She was now shaking in agitation. Because Kami-sama, this was so stupid. She couldn't do this.
It was almost like they forgot how to talk to one another. Or like they weren't used to having to speak out loud. And so it felt… awkward.
She didn't know how to bridge the sudden chasm between them, but one thing was certain.
The chasm was unacceptable.
"Mamo-chan?"
His eyes whipped back to her. "Yeah?" And now she could feel the hope in that one word, and it bolstered her confidence.
"How're things for real?"
He smiled, but there was a shadow of sadness behind it. "Quiet."
"Oh. Well, I was thinking that perhaps we could… or umm… you…" she rambled.
He sighed. "I can't read your mind anymore, Usako."
"I miss you," she finally whispered, willing him to understand.
He smiled softly. "I miss you, too."
Kami-sama! Why was this so hard?
"Mamo-chan?"
"Yeah?"
"What are you thinking?"
He stared at her for a second, and she could feel his eyes searching hers, and she hoped against all hope that he found whatever it was he was looking for.
So fast she almost missed it, a grin split his face and he yanked her into his arms. She squealed in startlement, but he quickly swallowed the sound with his lips on hers.
She melted against him, breathing in his life's air as if it was the only thing keeping her alive. Tears sprang to her eyes in relief, and his hands cupped either side of her face.
Eventually he pulled away with a gasp, but he remained close, their foreheads pressed together a beautiful smile stretched across his mouth. His thumb gently brushed her tears away.
She pulled away first. "It's like you can read my mind," she whispered with a grin.
"I wish," he grumbled before stealing another soft kiss.
She giggled as she pulled away just a bit, offering him her hand in exchange. "Let's go."
He grinned before enveloping it protectively into his own.
"If you're asking me out, you could at least actually ask," he said, his voice dry with amusement.
She smirked. "What would be the point? I already know your answer."
"And I thought I was the cocky, overconfident bastard."
"What can I say?" She shot back, reveling in the return of their teasing playfulness. "You've rubbed off on me!"
His hand tightened around hers. "Where are we going?"
"To get chocolate milkshakes, of course," she told him as if he should have known. Because, well, he should have.
"They can fix anything," he concluded.
She nodded firmly in agreement. "Exactly."
"It's an absurd premise."
"You like that I'm absurd."
"You don't even know what absurd means."
"I do too!" she cried indignantly, but she was still grinning like the cat that found the cream.
"Do not!"
"Do too!"
"Usako?" He asked softly.
She looked right up into his eyes. "Yeah?"
"About what I was thinking?"
"Yeah?"
"I love you."
Warmth bloomed in her chest and her smile grew a hundredfold. "I know! I love you too."
…
"And it was just hanging there and I couldn't stand it," he shared. "I went shopping the next day and I bought bright pink dishes, colorful throw blankets and pillows…"
"You didn't!" Usagi squealed happily.
"I did," he confirmed, basking in his girlfriend's uncensored joy at little things.
"Ahh! I can't wait to see it all!"
"I was hoping that you could help me break them in?"
"Absolutely!" she beamed.
They sat in a booth at the back of the arcade on the same bench turned facing each other. Two empty glasses sat on the table with the frothy residue of their milkshakes coating the surface, long forgotten as the compared notes of their last ten days.
"And I bought some picture frames, too, but I don't have any pictures to put in them," he admitted, a slight tremble in his voice betraying his attempt to mask his vulnerability. Even though Usagi knew his past intimately, these were the types of things that he had never before said out loud.
She saw through him anyway. Her hand quickly threaded through his own, and she squeezed it reassuringly. Her megawatt smile never wavered.
"That's not a problem! I'm sure Motoki-oniisan and maybe some of your other school friends have pictures with you in them to donate to the cause. And that probably won't be enough, so we'll just have to take a bunch more! It'll be so much fun!"
And now her eyes were gleaming with excitement, and he found himself mirroring the expression. His thumb caressed her fingers that remained tangled with his own.
"We will need a ton of candids for sure, but that's easy. We just have to tell Motoki-oniisan and the girls about the project and they'll take care of the rest. We could also do some formal shots! We could go shopping and get some outfits that compliment each other! And I'm sure Minako could hook us up with a photographer!"
"That all sounds wonderful," he whispered, bringing their joined hands to his mouth for a quick kiss.
Her face bloomed with pink, and she giggled. He could watch her expressions all day.
"So…" he said into the silence. "How is school going?"
She snatched her hand back with a scowl before playfully smacking him on his knee.
"Mamoru-baka! What I have said about talking about school on a date?!"
He laughed. "Right. I hope you can forgive me," he said playfully, as he recaptured her hand and offered her another placating kiss.
She grinned. "It's fine. I know you're a total nerd." And then her blue eyes lit up. "Actually! I do have something from school that I wanted to show you."
She turned away from him for a moment, and he watched patiently as she fished through her disorganized school bag, only to pull out a pink notebook covered in kitten and bunny stickers. Just the cover had him smiling. But she quickly flipped it open to a third of the way in and handed the open page to him.
He quickly glanced through what appeared to be history notes… maybe. He wasn't completely certain as there wasn't a complete thought anywhere on the page, but there was a scribbled down name - Emperor Shoko - so he assumed they were supposed to be history notes. But it looked as usual, that she had spent far more time drawing chibi-doodles of his alter-ego.
His dark eyebrows furrowed together. "Do you have questions one these? Because I'm going to be honest, these notes are not really remotely detailed enough for me to even know what this lesson was about."
"I don't want to talk about school!" she growled. "We're on a date!" Her gaze dropped, landing on their joined hands. "I want… I was hoping you might critique the drawings?" she trailed off, her eyes flashed up to his for a split second before falling back down. "I know… it's stupid."
She tried to pull the notebook back towards her chest, but he held onto it firmly, his eyes turning soft. "It's not stupid," he whispered. "I've missed this, too."
Her gaze popped right back up to his. "You did?!" She was smiling again.
He nodded. "During anatomy this whole week, I was so bored! And all I could think about was how much I missed being able to peek into your world and see your doodles."
She beamed at him.
He turned back to the drawings. Four different chibi Tuxedo Masks were traced out on the binder paper. One was in a dramatic pose with his red cape, another was petting a black kitten - Luna probably, another stood on top of a cartoon telephone pole, and the last was blowing a kiss. They were all positively adorable.
"So…?" she prompted when he said nothing.
"I hate them all," he announced with a straight face, looking back up.
"What?!" she screeched.
He grinned at her outrage, but before she could get too upset that he was being overly harsh, he interrupted. "He's all by himself. He must be terribly lonely. He needs a heroine to support and to protect," he told her gazing into her wide eyes. "Nothing he does is as amazing as it could be with her."
She leaned forward in that moment and her lips melted against his. He had missed this.
Why had he made himself wait an eternity to have her in his life?
Because you're a baka that thinks too much.
He grinned against her lips. He knew that thought was his own, but it sounded like her, and he loved that she had left an echo somewhere in his psyche.
He knew that he was better for it.
…
A/N:
So… this took forever, but not because it was giving me grief, but because I committed myself to too many other projects that had like… actual deadlines. Oh! And I moved over the summer. Minor detail. But I have felt like I've been fighting to get to this story all year! (It was literally haunting me). I really really hope it was worth the wait!
I seriously had like the very very rough initial draft completed like exactly a year ago. (I had comments from FloraOne timestamped from December 2019 that I got to clear out over the last few weeks. It was fun seeing the echoes of a more innocent time. Anyway, she has been a huge cheerleader through this whole project and she has my gratitude for all of that.
I also must thank TinaCentury – not just for being the best beta in the world and for squeezing this in between family time during the holidays, but because this story literally would not have been completed without her. When I was at the 90% stage and it wasn't coming together, she gave me the key I needed to make it all come together. Otherwise, it might have been another year. I'm not even kidding. Last chapters are hard! But most importantly, she has helped keep me sane this year – especially in November. November was also hard.
Asura Santosha – I don't know if this story is what you envisioned over two years ago when you gave me your challenge! But I hope you enjoyed this story just the same. I love you! YOU SHOULD CALL ME!
Just so you all know - I plan on trying to focus on Invisible Wounds in the immediate future. Coming of Age is going to remain on hiatus for a while longer.
I wish you all much love, health, and resilience in the new year!
Reviews are love!