AN: Hey there, beautiful readers! Thanks so much to everyone who's read and to everyone who has reviewed. Beej and I are having so much fun writing this for you! And we have a few chapters already lined up. So, you shouldn't have to wait long before the next adventure? 😉 Hope you enjoy the ending of this nightmare!
Chapter 2
Hiraeth
Part 2
This time when Mamoru retraced his steps back to the arcade, he was driven by an urgency that filled him with determination. If this whole day had restarted, then it was safe to assume that Usagi would go back to the Crown just like she had earlier.
He had no idea what he was going to say to her when she did show up. He was tempted just to try and convince her that this wasn't real again, but the headache that still thrummed dully against his temples dissuaded him from that. Clearly, he couldn't tell Usagi or anyone else what was going on unless he wanted to do this all over again.
He slowed a moment, his step faltering as he recalled the look on her face when she'd seen him. He hated this. He hated not knowing why this was all happening. And worse, he hated not having Usako with him to help figure this out. Though he was considered the more level-headed one in their relationship, he didn't feel that way now. Her carefree attitude and optimism would have definitely helped him remain calm while he thought things out more clearly.
He avoided everyone's attention as much as possible, dodging the catcalling girls, as he hurried to the Crown as fast as he could. The only thing he knew for sure at this moment, if the painful pull in his chest was any indication, was that he needed to make sure that Usagi was safe and hope that Rei was able to gain a little more insight into what this was.
As he turned the corner, one street away from the Crown, he felt the phone he'd grudgingly swiped off of the bedside table vibrate in his pocket. He stopped, eyes narrowed, heart skipping a beat as he slid his hand in his jeans to retrieve it.
He'd made sure to exchange numbers with Rei before he'd left the apartment, so he hoped it was her, and his hand shook, anticipation thrumming through his veins because maybe she'd figured something out already? When he held it up, though, his heart stopped. He didn't know what he'd expected apart from a call from Rei, but the name flashing brightly on his screen caught him off guard.
Mom.
He swallowed hard past the lump in his throat, blinking at the phone in confusion. For the first time in a long time, he felt completely at a loss on how to proceed. He'd never once had the name Mom show up on his phone because he'd never had a mom to call him.
A picture of Ikuko, Usagi's mother, popped up on the screen with the name. He was not able to put into words the foreign emotions elicited by the realization that here, in this strange world in which he'd swapped places with Usagi, he had a mom. For one terrifying moment he stood paralyzed in the middle of the sidewalk, gaze fixed on the screen, impeding foot traffic as he tried to decide what to do. He briefly contemplated declining the call. He didn't know how to act with a mother. How would the version of Mamoru in this world answer it? How would anyone?
He tried to think back to when Usagi would answer the phone whenever Ikuko called, replaying those instances in his mind as the phone continued to ring in his hand. If she were the one standing in his place, she would have excitedly bounced on her toes because she was going to get the chance to tell her mother about a new wedding development, share something cute she'd seen in a store or an adorable commercial they'd watched on TV.
Mamoru was not feeling that excitement now. In fact, he was terrified. With shaky hands, he swiped the screen open and tentatively pressed the phone against his ear. "Hello?"
"Hey, baby," Ikuko Tsukino chirped brightly through the phone. "How's your day going?"
He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply, caught off guard by the motherly tone in her voice. While it was one he'd become more accustomed to after he and Usako had started dating and Ikuko had insisted he'd instantly become part of the family, this was different. There was no Usagi to bring him into this family this time. According to everyone else in this world, this was his family. And Ikuko was his mom. He wasn't sure how to process the emotions that accompanied that revelation.
"It's….um…." he stuttered before clearing his throat. "It's definitely different."
He cringed at what was probably a very strange reply, lifting his gaze to study the street and the pedestrians that elbowed past him to ensure that he didn't miss Usagi heading to the arcade.
Ikuko didn't skip a beat. "I just wanted to remind you about dinner," she continued, the cheerful inflection in her voice so much like Usagi's. "I'm making your favorite so don't be late again, okay? It's at six."
Mamoru finally had the good sense to move out of the way, pulse quickening as he leaned against the brick wall of a building, his eyes closed as he listened to her voice. It wasn't as if he didn't know Ikuko. There was no way that you could be engaged to Usagi without knowing her mother. Family was everything to Usagi, and Ikuko was a wonderful woman. Oftentimes he'd imagined she was what his mother might have been like had she lived. Always doting on her children, ensuring that her family had what they needed which, by extension, happened to include him.
But she was also Usagi's mother, not his.
"Thanks, 'Ik- m-mom," he choked, face flushing uncomfortably. He had to get off this call. He didn't know how to handle this. "I have to go. I'll talk to you later."
"Are you okay, sweetie?" Ikuko asked, her voice soft and full of concern, and his heart ached.
"Yes, I'm fine. I'm just…" Just then, he caught a glimpse of Usagi walking down the street on the opposite side of him, about to turn the corner. "I'm sorry, I have to go," he rushed, a pang of guilt reverberating in his chest. "I'll come by later."
It was a lie as he had no intention of going over for dinner. He was wholly optimistic that they'd have this all figured out and be back in their world way before dinner time. Hopefully Rei's meditation and consultation with the fire was going more smoothly than this phone call.
"Okay," Ikuko replied, "See you tonight. Call me if you need anything, dear."
His response was, embarrassingly enough, an unintelligible grunt that had him fumbling to hang up, his cheeks burning hotly as he slipped it back into his pocket with a muttered curse.
Deciding to table the familiar pang of grief that had inconveniently surfaced because of that phone call, he quickly looked both ways before dashing across the street, rushing to catch up with Usagi. He wasn't sure if it was this world that was prompting him to act more impulsively than he would have otherwise, but when he turned the corner, he didn't hesitate. Calling out her name without thinking it through just as she made it to the sliding doors of the arcade.
"Usako!" he called out, stupidly forgetting that the Mamoru of this world probably wouldn't have called her that. "Wait!"
She stopped; that oversized jacket —which he inwardly admitted was an atrocious shade of green— hung off her shoulder as she clasped a book against her chest. She turned, startled, confusion etched into the expression in her upturned, heart-shaped face.
He tried not to flinch when the confusion faded, and she practically wilted in front of him. "Are you— are you talking to me?" she whispered, afraid, shoulders slumping in a way that made Mamoru's fists clench. "What do you want, Tsukino-san?"
He stopped in front of her, feeling deflated as he studied the way she retreated, eyes downcast as if she was afraid that he was going to hit her. It was so unlike Usagi that the anger blossomed uncomfortably in the pit of his stomach. Why the hell was this happening? What could possibly come out of thrusting them into a world in which she'd be stripped of everything that meant the world to her? A world in which he and his so-called friends had mistreated her so badly that she'd be standing in front of him like this.
"Usagi, please," he choked, overwhelmed. "Look at me."
She turned her head, and he swore she trembled as she begrudgingly met his gaze. It was clear that whatever this was, it was crafted specifically to hurt Usagi. He had to fix it.
Now that he had her, though, he wasn't really sure what exactly he was supposed to say given that he wasn't allowed to tell her that she wasn't actually who she currently thought she was. He had to say something and apologizing for this world's horrible version of Mamoru was a start.
He opened his mouth to speak, but she nervously cleared her throat, interrupting him. "Look," she started shyly, visibly swallowing as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "I'm not really interested in talking to you. I get it," she shrugged, averting her gaze again. "You're amazing and I'm just the weird orphan girl who cares way too much about school, loves this ugly green jacket, and whose only friend is Motoki. I overstepped when I told you I had a crush on you. I was over the line. I'm sorry, but we aren't in high school anymore. Can we just leave it alone already?"
Mamoru felt like the wind had been knocked from him. What she'd said hurt. It cut him deep, and he felt like he couldn't breathe. They'd switched places in this world, only he hadn't led the same life as Usagi. Instead, despite having all of the same opportunities he'd secretly wished that he'd had, he'd become a player and the kind of person he usually despised instead of bringing happiness and warmth to people like his Usako had.
It was a terrifying concept, and for a moment, he doubted who he was. Was there any truth there?
An image of Usagi, bright and cheery, laughing, toting the staples of love and justice flashed through his head, and he decided that he would take the time to examine those feelings later. Right now, he had to get them back to their world, no matter what it took. Pressing everything else aside, he determinedly opened his mouth to somehow make amends.
But once again, he was cut off as the doors to the Crown slid open, pulling both of their attention. Motoki confidently strode over the threshold, his eyes narrowed on him in warning. Turning towards Usagi, Motoki's gaze softened with a quiet look of sympathy as he slid an arm around her shoulder.
"Hey, Usagi-chan. Is everything okay?"
She leaned into him, glancing up at him with a grateful smile as she nodded. Motoki may as well have plunged a blade into Mamoru's chest because he couldn't stand the fact that he was currently on the outside looking in. That another person was offering Usagi comfort because of something he'd done.
Motoki returned Usagi's tentative smile and cast him a furious scowl over his shoulder as he gently led her inside, and they both disappeared into the arcade.
Mamoru blinked as he stood on the sidewalk staring after them, at a loss for words. What was he supposed to do now? Going into the arcade and forcibly pulling Usagi away from Motoki and back outside like he was itching to do probably wouldn't go over well.
Sighing with frustration, he turned away from the window, angrily carding his fingers through his hair. Clearly the enemy that had crafted this hell hole preferred to remain unseen. As long as Usagi was tucked away into the folds of this illusion, she was safe, right?
He moved down past the glass to avoid being spotted by anyone inside and leaned against the brick wall of the building, crossing his arms as he watched the people walking by and the cars driving past. He hoped that Rei was having better luck than he was.
As he stood there, waiting, contemplating this mess, his phone rang several times. The calls were from numbers he didn't recognize, girls' names he didn't know, which made him cringe, and one labeled Zoisite. He'd been tempted to answer that one, to hear his voice again to confirm that he was alive and here. But he'd seen Jadeite, so he knew it had to be true, and talking to them now would do nothing to help his current predicament.
Finally, when his phone dinged, and he glanced down to see a text from Rei, he straightened in anticipation.
Where are you?
After sending her a response to let her know that he was at the arcade, he waited anxiously for her arrival, looking around constantly as the anxiety had him pacing back and forth. When she finally turned the corner, rushing towards him, he involuntarily breathed a sigh of relief.
Her expression was fierce, filled with urgency as she halted in front of him casting a furtive glance at their surroundings before she tugged on his arm and forcibly pulled him away from the Crown and into the privacy of a side alley way's shadows.
She would have continued down the cobblestone pathway had Mamoru not stopped, halting Rei in her tracks. "Rei," he began, his tone curt and riddled with anxiety. "What's going on? What happened?"
She stopped, the intensity of her stare faltering in a way that worried him. "Mamoru," she choked, almost like she was out of breath. "I saw something strange. It was clearer than any other vision I've ever seen. Almost as if..."
Mamoru frowned, a ball of dread constricting in his chest. "Almost as if what, Rei?"
She hesitated for only a moment longer before levelling him with a worried stare. "It was like it wanted me to see what this was," she replied, barely above the sound of a whisper. "I think this is a nightmare."
Mamoru blinked, breath hitched. "Yeah, I'd say that is an understatement, Rei."
Rei rolled her eyes, scowling at him. "No, Mamoru," she snapped with exasperation. "I mean this is a literal nightmare."
It took a moment for Rei's words to register, when they did he inhaled sharply taking a step back in stunned silence. He was well acquainted with the concept of nightmares and that… well, that made absolute fucking sense.
He exhaled slowly, eyes narrowing shrewdly, mind racing with the implication. "Are you sure, Rei? What did you see?"
With an impatient flick of her wrist, she pushed aside strands of black hair draped over her shoulders. "I saw us. We were definitely sleeping. But we're strapped to beds. Or maybe tables? I'm not sure."
Mamoru's throat felt dry, and he had to swallow a few times before he was able to speak again. "Rei, how the hell do we get out of this?"
Rei's brow creased, and her lips pressed into a grim, determined line as she swiveled around wordlessly making her way back to the front of the Crown. He didn't hesitate, following her until she stopped, her expression thoughtful as she peered through the glass. Her eyes settled on Usagi, who was seated at the counter with a book open in front of her. Mamoru followed her gaze, his heart skipping a beat as he watched her sip on something in a mug.
Rei pressed her fingers against the glass, deep in thought. "I think Usagi is the key," she said softly. "We need to get her to remember."
Mamoru frowned, shaking his head with frustration. "We tried that, Rei," he snapped. "It didn't work."
Rei cast him an irritated scowl before shaking her head. "No, I mean, you have to remind her without outright telling her who she is, Mamoru," she snapped. "She needs to remember that she loves you."
Mamoru tried not to let his frustration seep into his tone as he raked his hand over his face. "How do I do that when I can't tell her anything?" This seemed like an impossible task, one he wasn't sure how he would manage.
Rei turned to him, frowning. "You're soulmates, Mamoru," she demanded, as if that was the answer to everything. "How many times did Usagi need to convince you when you'd forgotten who you were?"
He sucked in a breath, the wind knocked out of him at Rei's reproachful reminder. Damn. She was right. It was Usagi who had pulled him out of Beryl's control. It was Usagi who bore the burden of reminding him that he'd once been Endymion as she fought off Cardians with the Senshi on her own without him. They were soulmates, and this time she was counting on him. He could do this. For her.
Resolve erased the frustration and anxiety curling in his stomach and he straightened with determination. With a nod, and without another word, he moved around Rei and through the sliding doors of the Crown Arcade, ignoring the look of disdain from Motoki as he made his way to his Usako.
oOo
He was just about to reach Usagi when his former best friend moved in front of him, blocking his path, arms crossed with a look of fierce determination on his face. Mamoru understood. He really did. If someone had treated Usagi like he supposedly had, he wouldn't have let them get within six feet of her either.
"I just want to talk to her, Motoki," Mamoru pleaded as he faced down one of the few people he'd always considered a friend. Who was now standing in the way of the only woman he'd ever loved. "Please," he said as he tried to step around him. "I just want to apologize."
"You're not welcome here, Tsukino," Motoki growled, moving to block his path again.
Mamoru didn't know what to do. How was he supposed to get to Usagi if Motoki wasn't going to get out of his way?
"Toki," came a soft voice from behind him. Motoki dropped his arms and turned to see Usagi standing behind him, tightly holding a book. She reached her hand out, touching her friend's elbow lightly with a small smile, and Mamoru felt a slight ping of jealousy in the pit of his stomach. She hadn't looked at him like that since he'd woken up in this hell hole of a nightmare. She'd barely looked at him at all. "It's okay," she reassured him. "I'm just going to go to the library. I need to do some research, anyway." She slipped around them both, throwing a smile and a wave at Motoki, ignoring Mamoru completely.
He watched her as she walked out, ready to follow, when Motoki cleared his throat. "Just leave her alone, man," Motoki said, his voice a soft growl of warning. "Haven't you done enough to her already?"
"Listen," Mamoru started. He didn't have time for this. He needed to catch up to Usagi before he lost track of her.
"No, you listen," Motoki cut him off, his body tense with anger. "You aren't welcome in here anymore. Usagi is my best friend, and you hurt her a lot. You and your little friends. I refuse to let you come in here and drive her out again. This is her safe space, where she doesn't have to worry about running into you. Understand?"
Mamoru paused, his stomach twisting with guilt. But he couldn't let himself think about how he'd hurt her in this place. It would eat him alive, and he couldn't afford to waste time thinking about that. He had to get them out of here.
He turned to Motoki, an apologetic look on his face. "I know this is her safe place. Trust me, I know. But I don't want to hurt her anymore," he replied honestly, forcefully reminding himself that he hadn't been the one to hurt her, no matter how convincing this nightmare was. "I never want to hurt her. I just want to apologize. Start over. She didn't deserve what happened to her. No one deserves that. She has to know how bad I feel. How much I want to make it up to her. I'm sorry, Motoki, but I have to go after her."
It was all the sincerity Mamoru could muster, and he bit back a sigh of relief when Motoki's tense shoulders eased a bit, and his expression softened. After a moment of quietly considering him, Motoki finally spoke. "She went to the Keio library," he said softly.
Mamoru's eyes widened gratefully. "Thank you so much, Motoki-san." Motoki turned his head away, refusing to look at him. But Mamoru didn't care. He couldn't worry about dream-Motoki right now. He just needed to get to Usako.
Without another word, he turned on his heels and ran through the arcade's sliding doors, turning towards the direction of Keio University. He could find his way to Keio in his sleep, and he knew the inside of it like the back of his domino mask. This had once been his safe haven, his safe space for the longest time.
He hurried down the sidewalks, dodging between people and dashing around corners. Frustratingly, the crowds grew thicker, making it more challenging to get through. Mamoru marveled at the detail that had been crafted into a nightmare as it dawned on him that the two-day Azabu Juban summer matsuri was currently taking place. The street was closed and flocked with festival-attending people clad happily in yukata as they sampled food from vendors lining the intersection.
Mamoru frowned, trying to weave some kind of logic into the timeline. He decided not to dwell too much on it as he took a moment instead to reflect on his memories of attending the matsuri with Usako just last summer as he finally dodged a multitude of people crowding around the different carts. Though he'd never been particularly fond of festivals, Usagi loved them, excitement in her big, beautiful eyes as they moved from stand to stand, trying foods from as many places as possible.
He'd never really cared for matsuri's, and before Usagi, he'd actively avoided them. He only went to these because of how much Usako loved them. She always had the best time at places like these, and he found so much joy in observing the way her eyes lit up, sugar-coated smiles wide and mesmerizing, and the whole world seemed a little more at peace. He smiled to himself, momentarily forgetting their current predicament. When they got themselves out of this, he would make a concerted effort to take her to every festival in Tokyo without complaint.
He didn't allow himself to linger for too long, and when he finally stepped onto the university campus a short while later, he took a long, relieved breath. The familiarity was comforting as he made his way towards the library. This is where he loved to be, where he could study and learn and dedicate himself to finding out exactly how the mind of children with head injuries worked.
He stepped into the library, the smell of books and the sound of pages turning eliciting a sense of calm about him he hadn't felt since he'd woken up in sheets that weren't his. Since he'd been accused of going on dates that he would never have considered going on, while his best friend hated Mamoru with a passion as he'd told him that Mamoru had been responsible for humiliating the woman he was madly in love with.
He knew exactly where to go. If it was really true that they'd switched places, then it made sense that Usako would more than likely be seated at his favorite table in the library. She was already carrying around a bunch of books, drinking what he assumed was coffee from a mug from his seat at the counter of the Crown, and wearing his green jacket, despite how much she'd teased him for it in the real world.
He wove his way through aisles of books, passing other tables with students in study groups or quietly sitting on their own. His heart clenched when he passed a slender girl that was flipping through what looked like shoujo manga rather than studying. The array of well-loved manga volumes scattered with medical journals on the table in front of her reminded him so much of Usagi, he faltered a bit, swallowing around the lump of emotion in his throat as he passed her.
If they weren't trapped in a dream by some unseen enemy that was threatening everything he loved, he'd almost be fascinated by how detailed everything felt. Honestly, he couldn't wait to tell Usagi about all of this when they were safely at home.
When he passed the last aisle of books, he turned to the left, and his breath caught. There she was, sitting at his table, books, and notebooks spread out around her. He watched, heart in his throat, as she rolled a pencil around between her teeth, flipping through a few pages in one of the books as she scanned it. She tapped the pencil against her chin for a moment, adorably focused, before jotting something down in her notebook. Which, he noted sadly, was plain and not at all bedazzled or pink like he was accustomed to seeing all of the things Usagi owned.
His eyes widened, and his heart began to race. Watching Usagi study was one thing. To watch her study so intently was something altogether different. While it was a wonder to see, it also felt wrong, and he didn't like it. This was something Ami or he enjoyed, not Usako. She would have much preferred to be reading manga, eating secret snacks that she'd snuck into the library that he'd specifically told her not to bring in, and making little doodles in the notebooks that he wasn't currently using. And that was if she came with him to the library at all.
He took a deep, steadying breath and made his way toward her, his heart racing with each step he took. He just had to make her remember, right? If he just reminded her of the things that made her, her, that's all it would take, right?
He sighed to himself, trying to ignore that foreboding feeling that was letting him know that it wasn't really going to be that easy.
He took the seat across from Usagi, sliding softly into the chair. She didn't look up at first, thoroughly engrossed in the book she was reading. Her head was down, one arm bent and tucked behind her neck to hold her head up, her other hand making notes with her pencil. He watched her for a few more seconds, taking in just how beautiful she was as she scribbled in her notebook.
"Usako," he said softly, trying not to startle her.
He did anyway, and she jumped in her seat, gasping in surprise, torn from her world of academics. She looked up, startled, her big blue eyes wide as she finally focused on him. He tried not to take it to heart when her face fell, along with her shoulders, and his heart took a tumble right along with them. He couldn't stand that he was the one that had caused this kind of reaction from her.
"Tsukino-san? Did you follow me here? What do you want?" she hissed, her tone hushed as they were still in a library. "I just want you to leave me alone."
He sucked in a breath, reminding himself that none of this was real, that this was just a nightmare. In real life, he hadn't treated her this way, hurt her this way. He just needed to get them back to that.
"I just, I really need to apologize for the way I acted, Usagi," he blurted without thinking. "The way I allowed my friends to act. It was wrong, and you deserve so much better. Please let me make it up to you?"
She stared at him a moment as if weighing the options in her head. This was a very different Usagi indeed. His Usako was impulsive, quick to make any decision that made her happy or excited. But this Usagi thought long and hard, making sure to make the right choice.
The anxiety was growing in his chest, fear that this may not work, that he was going to have to think of something else that may get her to talk to him when finally she slowly nodded. "Okay, Tsukino-san," she agreed quietly, tentatively. "Fine."
His anxiety only dwindled a little because her expression was hard to read. She was so guarded, her usually expressive eyes giving nothing away, and it was frustrating as hell. Though, at least she was talking to him, right?
When it looked like she would ignore him, go back to her books, he cleared his throat. "What are you studying?" he asked, motioning to the books on the table.
Her brow creased into the slightest frown as she leveled him with an even stare. "Um, biochemistry?" she stated as she looked down at the books scattered across the desk.
His breath hitched as he took a closer look at the books. He grabbed one of the opened ones closest to him, closing it just enough to see the front of it. When he saw the cover, it hit him like a ton of bricks.
That was one of his books. Not his, specifically, but his in that he had pulled it from the library a lot and studied from it quite a bit in his first years at Keio. She was learning the same things he'd studied.
It made sense, of course. They had switched lives, after all. But it made him wonder why. He knew what had prompted him to study biochemistry and ultimately what career he'd chosen. He was equal parts curious and terrified to know if she was choosing the same one. And if she was, what did that mean for her past in this nightmare. What had made her an orphan in the first place?
He swallowed past the lump in his throat, trying his best to steer clear of the thoughts that were threatening to send him spiraling. He needed to concentrate on Usako right now and getting her back to who she really was. He couldn't afford to dwell on who she was in this nightmare. It wasn't real, and this wasn't her. He did need to find some common ground with her, though, and maybe the academics was the right way to go.
"Biochemistry, huh?" he started with a small smile which only elicited a weary, untrusting look from her. "I actually know a lot about biochemistry."
Her weary expression turned into a frown, and she arched an eyebrow in disbelief. "You know about biochem? Aren't you barely passing your regular classes?" she spat, and he cringed a bit at her tone. He tried not to think about how very reminiscent it was to the way he'd teased her when they'd first met, though he was pleased to see the fierce Usagi-like fire gleam in her eyes.
Her eyes widened, and she cringed, averting her gaze. "I'm so sorry," she breathed, her cheeks flushing a bright, embarrassed red. "I don't know where that came from,"
"I do," he muttered under his breath, chuckling quietly to himself because this was proof that his Usagi was still in there. She heard him and frowned, confused. He waved it off with his hand and looked back at the books. "I might not be doing the greatest in school, but it most definitely isn't because I'm not smart. I just don't apply myself," he said with a confident shrug. "That's all."
It was the absolute truth and what he knew to be a fact about his Usako. She was brilliant, and if she put half as much energy into her studies as she did into her manga and video games, it would reflect highly into her rising grades, but that wasn't who she was. Usagi very much reveled in the things that she enjoyed, and school wasn't one of them.
"Hm," she said, returning to her books. "Well, that's nice to know. If you don't mind, though, I'd like to get back to it." She pointed a pencil down to her notebooks.
He sat there, watching 'like a creeper,' as Usako would say, as she returned to reading the book she'd laid out in front of her. He thought for a moment, trying to figure out his best course of action, as he watched her write down a fact that was incorrect. He frowned and pointed to the paper.
"This is actually called amylase now," he corrected as he reached across the table, pointing out a word in her notes.
She blinked, her head shooting up to look at him and then back at her paper. "What?" she said, bewildered.
"This is an older book. So not all of the information in it is still entirely accurate. The enzyme that was the first proof that chemical reactions occur within the bodies of living things is called amylase now, not diastase," he corrected without even thinking about it. "It's one of the things that confused me at first, so I thought I'd save you the hassle." He smiled as he pulled his hand back and straightened to look at her.
She was staring at him, eyes wider than he'd ever seen. "Wow," she breathed. "You really should apply yourself more in school. You could be doing so much better. I'm sure you could even go to Keio if you really tried."
He couldn't help the smirk. "Yeah, I'm sure I could. Maybe you could tutor me some time?"
She blushed as her confusion melted away, replaced by an embarrassed giggle. "Yeah," she said, her cheeks staining crimson red. "Sure, I'll tutor you some time." She chewed on her bottom lip nervously, her eyes darting back down to her notebook.
They sat there in silence for a moment, Usagi going back to her studying, Mamoru watching her, trying to decide what to do next. It looked like he'd made progress. She'd let him in a bit, and that was a start. But what was next? He had to think of something good; somewhere to take her out of this library. Usako definitely did not belong in a library. She belonged somewhere fun, where she could enjoy herself, be in a crowd of people, eat, and…
His eyes widened. "Usagi," he started, excitement flowing through his veins, and she gave him a "hm?" in response. "Not sure if you noticed, but there's a two-day matsuri happening right now. Would you like to go?"
She didn't even hesitate. "No thanks," she replied, her eyes glued to the book in front of her, not even bothering to look up. He still considered it a win that she was even talking to him. It was a big difference from where they'd been earlier, her not able to meet his gaze while he chased her around trying to apologize.
"But it'll be fun," he pressed, knowing that if she went to the matsuri, she'd be in her element, and it was bound to trigger some of Usako's memories of all the times they'd gone together. "We can try all the different foods they have, get some ice cream, and-"
"I really don't like crowds, Tsukino-san," she interrupted, looking up from her book. "Plus, I really do have to study. Thank you anyway." She turned back to her book, dismissing him completely.
"Mamoru," he bit out a bit more harshly than he meant to.
Her head tipped back up, frowning as she regarded him with confusion. "What?"
He sighed, taking a deep breath before answering. "Mamoru. My name is Mamoru. Not Tsukino-san. You can just call me Mamoru."
She blinked, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, the blush returning to her cheeks as she nodded. "Okay...Mamoru." She said it softly as if trying the name on her tongue. "I really do have to study, though," she said, pointing to her work again with a slight one-shoulder shrug. Then she looked back down, returning to her work.
Mamoru exhaled slowly, feeling deflated as he observed Usagi, who was pointedly ignoring him as she dove back into her book. If he wasn't going to get her to go to the matsuri with him, he would have to find some other way to help her remember. The problem was he had no idea what there was in a library that he could find to interest Usagi.
He straightened, eyes widening as he suddenly remembered when Usagi had accompanied him to one of his study sessions. He recalled that she'd gotten bored really quickly, pulling a well-weathered volume of Omukae Shibuya-kun from her bag to read, instead. It was a shoujo manga that Mamoru knew way more about than he would have liked to admit.
It sparked an idea, and with renewed confidence, he stood, gaining her attention. She watched him, her gaze surreptitious as he stood, and he muttered a "be right back" as he walked away.
This had to do it, right? Manga was one of Usako's favorite things in the world. There were bookshelves filled with them at home. They'd often discuss her favorite plot points, her face lit up with excitement. He backpedaled through the library, pulse racing as he spotted the girl still engrossed in manga. Though he didn't technically possess the latent abilities of Tuxedo Mask here, it was easy enough to swipe one from the table. He felt guilty for only a second because it wasn't possible to steal in a nightmare, right?
He slid back in his seat across from her, this time a little more forcefully, causing the table to jostle around a bit. Usagi grabbed the edges in an attempt to stop it from moving so none of the books or notebooks fell as she pressed her lips together tightly, casting him an annoyed look.
He ignored her irritation, smiling as he placed the manga on top of her books and notebooks. "Look, I brought you this."
She glanced down, confusion written all over her face, her hands still poised on the edge of the table. "Why would you bring me this? I'm not really a fan."
Something broke in his heart a little bit, but he forcibly kept the smile on his face though it didn't quite reach his eyes. Usagi turning down a chance to read manga in place of studying? It just wasn't right. "Well, maybe you just haven't tried it in a while. Here." He reached over, pushing it closer to her. It was one of her favorites. He was sure she'd read this particular volume over 100 times. "I think you'll really like this one."
"Oh my God, seriously," she huffed, her tone filled with exasperation and frustration. "I promise you I do not really like manga." She pushed the manga away from her before crossing her arms in front of herself. "Why are you pushing this? You're acting very strange."
Mamoru inwardly cringed, disliking the fact that he was pushing anything she didn't want onto her, but he was desperate, and he couldn't let this go. He wanted her back. "So, you won't even give it a try?
Usagi sighed loudly, raking her hands through her bangs with exasperation. "I've tried them before, Mamoru. I just don't see the appeal. I'm sorry." When he opened his mouth to press the issue again, she lifted her hand, expression stern, to interrupt him. "Look, since you seem so insistent on suddenly doing something with me, though only God knows why, I will agree to go to the festival with you if you agree to leave me alone for the rest of my life. Deal?" She held out her hand across the table, awaiting his handshake.
It took him a minute to respond, but his insides were somersaulting. He couldn't believe it. He'd done it. She was going to go to the festival with him. That's where he would show her all the fun, joy, and love that made her his Usako. He would remind her of who she was, and she would wake up and remember everything on her own, and then they would face whatever the hell this was together.
This was the beginning of the end.
He reached across the table, grasping her hand tightly, heart in his throat at the feel of her skin against his, as he looked her dead in the eye.
"Deal."
There was no way Usagi could resist being swept up in the energy of a festival that held all of her favorite things including a vast variety of mouthwatering food choices, right?
oOo
She was downright miserable.
Mamoru had never in his life seen Usagi shrink away from the exuberance and excitement of a matsuri. She should have been in her element; these kinds of festivals were what she lived for, after all. At least that's what she'd exclaimed, sighing contentedly around a mouthful of warm candied apple, the last time she'd literally dragged him to one. This was not the case for the Usagi of this nightmare.
Though he'd been hopeful, even as she'd scowled at him as she grudgingly organized her books and put them away in a very orderly, un-Usagi-like fashion, all of his hopes were dashed in the hours that followed.
Not only had he been the one to have to drag her to the festival this time, but he'd needed to fill the awkward silence that lingered between them on the way there. Of course, that did not go well as communication was definitely not his strong suit, and he was reasonably sure he'd only managed to insult her more in his attempts to tease the fiery, indignant Usagi out of her shell like he was used to.
It didn't work, and her frown only deepened, her posture and movements stiff and dripping with tension, a clear indication that she was extremely uncomfortable and would have liked to have been anywhere else rather than walking to a festival with him.
This, of course, sent Mamoru spiraling into panic mode. He'd been so sure, so sure, that all he would need to do was coax her a little, reintroduce her to the sweeping hurricane of excitement that she typically relished. The moment that they stepped off the curb, wading through the crowd of yukata wearing festival go-ers on and around juban patio, he knew he'd made a mistake.
He was eager, pulling her towards the live band that was set up on a makeshift dais. The music reverberating loudly above their heads, the sound coming from strategically placed speakers. It was only when she tugged on his arm that he stopped, turning towards her, his brows drawn together into a frown when he noted that she was not following him. She grimaced, cringing as she was jostled by some squealing girls that were trying to forcefully push their way past them.
"Mamoru-san," she snapped, cheeks red as she tugged at the collar of her shirt. "I don't want to go any closer. It's too crowded. There are too many people."
Mamoru's frown deepened as his gaze swept over her, and he noted that she was hunching her shoulders, clutching her book bag so tightly that her knuckles were bleached white. Instantly he felt guilty because, damn, he recognized that look in her eyes. It was one he'd worn several times, and he exhaled, trying to hide his disappointment as he pulled back, gesturing that they could go back the way they'd come rather than shout over the noise of the music.
Usagi nodded, visibility relieved as she stiffly twisted around, pushing her way back through the mob of people. She only stopped when they reached the sidewalk in a slightly less crowded area, though they still hadn't managed to completely escape the bustling din of activity around them.
Her expression was stern as she lifted her chin, gaze averted as she shifted uncomfortably. "Look, Mamoru-san," she began, her voice trembling as she struggled to raise it an octave to be heard over the buzz of conversation and music. "I appreciate that you want to make amends for what happened in high school, but that was a long time ago, and I don't belong here."
She was right about one thing. She didn't belong here. Not like this, not in this life or in this nightmare, and he swallowed, the panic welling in his throat as he fought back the urge to grab her arm and pull her close.
"Usak— Usagi, we don't have to go closer to the band," he blurted. "We could stop at some of the booths instead. I can buy you something to eat, my treat."
The energy and excitement evoked by the music and the crowd had really only been his first try. It was the food that Usagi loved most, and there was no way she could turn down the wafting smells of various pastries and treats.
His heart fell when she wrinkled her nose, shaking her head in disgust. "No, thank you," she declined curtly. "Do you have any idea how bad the food at these things is for your health? I have a fairly decent metabolism, but I'd rather not tempt fate."
Mamoru was at a loss for words, throat constricted tightly as he tried not to let the disappointment seep into his expression. Rei had said that Usagi was the key. Reminding her who she was would end this, but what if she was wrong? What if they were stuck here in this world in which everything was backward? In which Usagi was traumatized by crowds and possessed the idiosyncrasies that he'd often recognized in himself?
He let that thought settle for a moment, the panic weaving uncomfortably in the cavity of his chest before he made a decision. It didn't matter. It didn't matter what Usagi liked or who she thought that she was; he loved her, regardless. They were meant to be together, and if he had to, he would make this world work for them. He would do anything for her.
Clearly, he was going about this the wrong way. How had Usagi managed to tear down his walls? Overcome the broody, hardened disposition he'd donned like some kind of armor?
It became clear, then, what he needed to do. If Usagi was stuck as a Chiba, then he was just going to have to be her Tsukino. That meant accepting her and loving her for exactly who she was in a true Usagi-like fashion.
The tension eased from Mamoru's shoulders, and he exhaled slowly, expression regretful when he nodded. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "I wasn't thinking. Do you want to go for a walk instead? Somewhere where it's not as loud or crowded?"
Usagi was quick to nod, relieved, and his stomach twisted nervously as he followed her as she hurried further away from the bustling din of the crowd. Even though the people waned as they walked silently side by side, Mamoru noted that she was still tense, arms curled around her bookbag as if she was grasping at a lifeline, her gaze determinedly fixed in front of her.
It was awkward as hell, and Mamoru exhaled slowly, carding his fingers through his hair, trying to decide what to say next. Things hadn't always been easy between him and Usagi, given the complexity of their history, but Usagi always knew what to say. Even when she was blurting out random things just to fill the quiet. This tense, awkward silence was not something that he was accustomed to, and he fleetingly wondered if this was how he sometimes seemed to her.
He frowned, furtively studying her in his peripherals, noting the guarded, unreadable expression on her face. He cleared his throat, and it startled her into glancing at him, blonde brows drawing together, baffled as if she'd forgotten that they were walking beside each other.
"So…" he bit back a grimace. Usagi was so much better at this than he was. "What have you been up to since high school?"
As expected, his endeavor to get her to talk fell flat, and her frown only deepened in an infuriating way that gave absolutely nothing away. "It's really not all that interesting."
Mamoru offered her an encouraging smile. "I think you're underestimating how interesting you are."
This time she scowled, irritated. "I'm really not, Tsukino-san. I'm just—"
He frowned. "Mamoru," he corrected, interrupting her.
She cut him a reproachful glare, continuing as if he hadn't spoken. "I'm just concentrating on school right now."
He waited, hoping that she would continue, but she pressed her lips together. Sealing them tightly closed as she readjusted her bag's strap over her shoulder and continued walking, presumably back towards Keio library.
For a second, Mamoru stayed rooted in place, watching her walk without so much a glance back, frustration etched into his expression. If the goal of this nightmare had been to swap their lives and their personalities, he had to wonder if there had ever been a time when he'd been so frustratingly difficult to talk to. Sighing, internally admitting that, yes, he probably had been, he scrambled after her even more determined now.
He couldn't care less about the limits of this nightmare. His Usagi was in there, still, and nothing made her talk more than when she was gushing about something that she loved. So what if what she loved had shifted a little bit in this world? He could get her to open up; he knew he could.
When he caught up with her, his strides long and hurried as he slowed his pace to match hers, she sighed loudly, the sound long-suffering, eliciting an amused half-smirk from Mamoru because that was a sound that he'd heard often.
"Tell me about school," he asked, and she snorted, the sound patronizing as she quickened her pace.
"You don't care about school," she snapped. "Look, this was a bad idea. I really need to get back now, Ts… Mamoru. You can stop pretending that you care."
Mamoru was on the verge of ripping his hair out, jaw clenching because why the hell was he so bad at this? Usagi made it look easy.
Exhaling slowly, determined, and unwilling to give up, Mamoru ran his fingers through his hair instead of tearing it out. "Usagi, please," he appealed. "I'm not pretending. I am genuinely interested." She didn't respond, though her steps slowed somewhat. "Look, I know I'm annoying you. If you really want me to go, I will." He'd reset the day and try again tomorrow if he had to. "But, I want to be your friend, and I truly am interested in hearing about your classes."
At first, he was convinced that she would tell him to go, to leave her alone so that she could retreat into the library in a world that wasn't theirs. If she did, this time, he would leave her alone, unwilling to pressure her even more. Her expression imperceptibly softened though, eyes flashing for a moment with a vulnerability that was much more reminiscent of Usagi and less like him.
She glanced at him, nervously tucking a stray tendril of hair behind her ear before she finally responded. "It's just that— I used to really want to be your friend, Mamoru," she confessed quietly, and his breath hitched, pulse-quickening at the tone in her voice. "I used to watch you with your friends. It's hard to believe that you'd want to talk to me now."
"I do, Usako," he blurted, unable to stop himself. "Please, I know it's asking a lot, but I really do want to hear about your life. About school."
The impassive, hard to read look that she wore like a badge of honor in this world faltered, and she smiled, the corners of her lips curling upward, and Mamoru fought back the urge to cheer. It was something at least, and when she nodded and tentatively began to tell him about her classes, he could have wept with relief.
After that, he only needed to coax her a little, offer her an encouraging smile, and she opened up very much like Usagi would have. Of course, her conversation's subject matter was vastly different than he was used to, and he was equally invested in the topics. Though he was careful not to interject because her tone was the same as his Usagi. She was the bright-eyed, red-cheeked girl brimming with excitement as she spoke, bouncing on the balls of her feet in a way that only Usagi could manage until they somehow managed to unintentionally navigate their way back to the arcade.
Usagi seemed surprised to find herself there, and she stopped, fingertips pressed to her lips in dismay as her cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. "I'm sorry…" she trailed off, confusion glistening in her eyes as if she couldn't understand what had prompted her to speak so openly. "I'm not sure what's come over me; I didn't mean to talk so much."
He swallowed, heart racing because he knew why. It was because this was his Usagi, and hope blossomed in his chest, anticipation coursing through him. Just a bit longer, and he was now sure that she'd fight this off and regain her memories.
He shoved his hands into his pockets, resisting the urge to tuck a stray curl of hair behind her ear. "Don't apologize. I enjoyed the conversation, Usagi. I liked hearing about the things you love." The way her eyes lit up, her wary expression fading as her shoulders straightened with pleasure, made him want to lean down and kiss her. Instead, he smiled, canting his head to the side, gesturing towards the arcade entrance. "Can I buy you a milkshake?"
Usagi wrinkled her nose in disgust, shaking her head. "Too sweet," she replied, and his smile faltered a little because never in his life had Usagi ever declared that something was too sweet. She mistook his expression for something else because she blushed, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. "You can buy me a coffee if you'd like, though, Mamoru-san."
When she lifted her gaze, they were wide, hopeful, filled with a tentative vulnerability; if he could have transformed into Tuxedo Mask, he probably would have, every protective instinct flaring up hotly inside of him at that look.
He opened his mouth to respond, to tell her that hell yes, he would buy her a coffee, a wedding ring, a house, and anything else she wanted when he was interrupted by the dulcet, feminine tone of a redhead that was headed directly towards them.
"Mamoru-Kun! I was just about to call you!"
He instantly recognized Osaka Naru, though her hair was longer than he remembered. She was also looking at him in a disconcerting way. Her gaze sweeping over him, half-hooded, sultry smile on red-painted lips as she sidled up beside him.
He frowned, taking a step back, panicked by the way a look of hurt flashed across Usagi's face as her eyes, round and filled with misery, darted between him and Naru.
In the real world, as one of Usagi's oldest friends, he knew Naru well. He considered her a friend, even, and he enjoyed spending time with her and her long-time boyfriend Umino. This was a nightmare, though, and the come-hither smile on her lips and the way she completely dismissed Usagi as if she wasn't even there made the blood freeze in his veins.
"I was hoping we could move our date from tomorrow to tonight?" Naru practically purred, clutching at his arm, fluttering feathered eyelashes in a way that made Mamoru's stomach churn uncomfortably. "Or right now, even? We could go to the matsuri! That would be so much fun!"
Usagi cleared her throat, shoulders slumping as that guarded, frustrating expression fell back into place. Mamoru sucked in a panic-riddled breath, quickly disengaging himself from Naru's grip.
"Er, actually—"
Naru interrupted him, her eyes narrowing as they finally deigned to notice that Usagi was standing beside them. "Hey, don't I know you?"
Usagi's eyes widened, round as saucers, terrified like she was a little blue-eyed doe caught in the headlights of an oncoming car. "Yes," she choked, slender fingers nervously wringing the strap of her book bag. "We- we were in almost every class together."
Naru frowned, gaze shrewdly sweeping over Usagi condescendingly. Finally, she froze, pursed lips widening into a smirk as recognition dawned in her eyes. "Oh, my god, I remember," she quipped, uncharacteristically disdainful. "You're that orphan girl. Hey, didn't you…" Naru's eyes flicked over to Mamoru and back to Usagi, and she pressed her fingers to her lips, snickering cruelly. "You're poor, lovesick odango atama! Are you still chasing after Mamoru-san like a pathetic little puppy dog?"
Usagi inhaled sharply, her expression heart-wrenching, full of anguish as her eyes filled with tears. Naru may as well have struck her, and Usagi choked, shaking her head as she took a quick step back, practically tripping, which elicited a shrill, horrible peel of laughter from Naru.
"I—" Usagi gasped, "excuse me."
It happened so quickly, and Mamoru was still reeling in shock from this hateful version of Naru that he didn't stop Usagi before she fled, elbowing past him to race back the way they'd just come.
Naru snorted, "What a strange girl," she said snidely, latching onto his arm again. "So, about that—"
Mamoru didn't give her a chance to finish her sentence as he angrily tore away from her, cursing under his breath as he swiveled around and raced after Usagi. He heard Naru call after him, but he ignored her, adrenaline pulsing through his veins as his gaze frantically sought out familiar golden pigtails ahead. What the hell had that been? Was Naru trapped here, as well? Or was the redhead just a construct of their memories, like the shitennou probably were?
Either way, he fought back the urge to scream because he'd been so close. So close. Naru's impromptu interruption had ruined everything, and he had to wonder if that had been done on purpose by whoever was responsible for this when he caught sight of Usagi just up ahead.
She'd slowed, no longer running, though her shoulders had collapsed, head bowed as she moved stiffly. Her gaze was downcast as she lifted her hand and furiously swiped at her face.
When he caught up to her, desperately grasping her wrist, his only thought was to stop her. To comfort her. To make all of this go away. She gasped, startled before she angrily tore her arm away from him as if he'd burned her. Her expression was filled with fury when she swiveled around to face him.
Red-faced, eyes filled with anger, she took a step towards him. "What do you want?" she snapped, her lower lip trembling with emotion. "You had your fun. Go back to Osaka-san, and bring her to the stupid matsuri. What are you even doing chasing after me?"
Mamoru's breath hitched because, yes, she was hurt, but she wasn't cowering away from him. She was confronting him with all of the emotion-fueled passion that was so very Usagi. It wasn't over yet, and despite the setback, he knew he could make this work. He could win her over.
"Usagi," he breathed, blinking back his own tears because the way she was feeling was tearing at his heart. "I don't want to go to the matsuri with Naru. I wanted to have coffee with you."
An angry tear slipped down her cheek, and she snorted, wiping it away with an angry swipe of her fingers. "Why are you doing this, Mamoru?" she demanded. "I'm over it, okay? I forgive you. You don't like coffee, anyway!"
He arched an eyebrow taking a tentative step towards her. "How would you know that I don't drink coffee?" He did, of course, but not here apparently, and Usagi had noticed.
Usagi wasn't fazed, waving her hand in a dismissive anger-filled movement. "You know why," she snapped, still fuming. "Because I'm the poor pathetic, lovesick Odango atama. Stalking you like the pathetic puppy dog that Osaka-san called me."
"Usagi," he began softly, gently capturing her flailing hands, encircling his fingers around dainty wrists. "Stop, please," he implored, and she stilled, visibly swallowing as she looked up at him. When she didn't pull away, he stepped closer, pressing closed fists against his chest. "The Mamoru that dismissed you in high school was a different person. If you're pathetic, then so am I because I'm very interested in getting to know you."
She swallowed, shaking her head in denial, blinking back another onslaught of tears threatening to spill from glistening eyes. "I'm so confused," she whispered, voice breaking with emotion. "Are you sure you know who you're talking to?"
Mamoru swallowed, momentarily overwhelmed with emotion. "Yes," he responded confidently, vehemently. "I know exactly who I'm talking to."
She didn't, though, and suddenly, he knew exactly what it would take to remind her.
"Will you have dinner with me?" he blurted abruptly, a plan formulating in his head as she frowned, considering him. "There are some people I'd love for you to meet."
He and Usagi were different in many ways, though he would argue that their differing personalities complimented each other perfectly. There was one thing, though, that they both held high on their list of priorities. That was the love of a family. If anyone else could break Usagi from this delusion, it was Ikuko, Kenji, and Shingo.
oOo
Mamoru's heart was pounding as they made their way to the Tsukino residence, arriving a few minutes before six. He was nervous, balls of anxiety ricocheting against the walls of this stomach. The matsuri had not worked out like he'd thought it would, but he'd made some progress.
He cast a furtive sideways glance at her, fighting back the urge to cringe because she looked anything but happy to find herself standing in front of the Tsukino's, brow furrowed, her arms wrapped around herself as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other nervously.
How he'd managed to convince her to meet what was supposed to be his parents but were really her parents was beyond him. He was starting to regret it now as the awkward, unbearable tension of two introverts about to step into a very uncomfortable situation fell over them like an impenetrable veil that made him want to scream.
He had to remind himself that his goal was to remind Usagi that she wasn't alone, that she was loved, that she loved him. He was second-guessing his decision to bring her here now, though, because he was only just realizing that he had no idea what kind of family the Tsukino's of this world had been crafted into. Clearly, his friends had been forced to play different roles. Naru, for example, would never have treated anyone the way that she'd treated Usagi. What if the Tsukino's were not the loving, heartwarming people that he remembered?
It was too late to turn back now, though, and he swallowed, glancing down at Usagi with a forced smile on his lips. "Ready?"
She shrugged, her expression hard to read. "I guess?" she replied, the dream Usagi clearly bewildered why the baka that had spent so much time humiliating her would want to bring her to his parent's house. "I still don't even know why you're being so nice to me. I mean, inviting me to your parent's house? Don't you think this is a little much? I mean, really. I get it. You're sorry. We can try to be friends. This is really unnecessary, you know."
Except that he didn't want to be friends. Ideally, he'd like for Usagi to remember that she loved him. Regardless if that was truly what would end this nightmare or if they were doomed to be trapped in here forever. He couldn't imagine an existence in which she did not love him.
"Nonsense," Mamoru said with another forced smile, waving off her words. "This will be… great."
He swallowed, muttering the last word because he wasn't exactly sure how this was going to go. He knew how family dinners went in the Tsukino household when Usagi was their daughter, but how did they go when he was their son?
He was nervous, his stomach a ball of anxiety when, without thinking, he took her hand. Surprisingly, she didn't pull away, though, and he counted that a small victory as he led her toward the front door. When they got to the door, he stopped. Did the Mamoru in this nightmare knock? Or did he just walk in? This had been his house growing up, right? So would he just walk in? Having no parents of his own, he had no idea what he should do. Usagi would have barged in, a whirlwind of brightness and energy as she threw open the door and announced that she was there. Usagi was unique, though, and damn, he was going to stand here all night agonizing over this.
Usagi tugged on his hand, pulling his attention away from the door to look down at her. She was watching him; brows dipped in confusion. "What's wrong? Aren't you going to go in?"
Mamoru cleared his throat nervously, trying to swallow past the lump in his throat as he nodded. "Of course I'm going in," he answered, though the way his voice wavered probably gave away that he was feeling less than confident. "I was just waiting for-"
At that moment, the door was ripped open, surprising both of them. They jumped, startled to see Ikuko standing in the doorway. Whatever Mamoru had been dreading might have been done to the Ikuko of this nightmare was for nothing because she looked exactly the same. Her eyes wide, bright, just as expressive as Usagi's. Lavender hair cascading over her shoulders as she leaned forward, bouncing on the balls of her feet with a big smile on her face.
"There you are!" she chirped happily, crushing Mamoru to her in a tight hug. It caught him off guard, and he didn't have a chance to respond before she'd released him, shoving him to the side so she could give her full attention to Usagi. "And he brought a gorgeous young lady home with him, too? Hello, dear. I'm Tsukino Ikuko. What's your name?"
Usagi smiled shyly, a soft blush tinting her cheeks as she bowed respectfully. "It's wonderful to meet you, Tsukino-san. My name is Chiba Usagi."
Ikuko's smile widened, infinitely pleased. "No need to be so formal, darling. You can call me Ikuko." Before Usagi could respond, Ikuko stepped away from the door, ushering them inside. "Well, come inside, you two!"
Usagi smiled politely, blushing adorably, in awe, just like he had the first time he'd met Ikuko as she tentatively took a step inside. He was frozen for a moment, overwhelmed, when Usagi glanced back at him over her shoulder, arching a golden brow in question as if silently asking him what she should do. Mamoru was at a loss, really regretting his decision to bring her here now because he honestly had no idea. This was just as new to him as it was to her. But he was going to have to pretend that it wasn't. He'd supposedly grown up in this house, right? This was his family. He should be right at home.
How in the world was he going to pull this off?
He followed Usagi and Ikuko, his heart clenching at the way Usagi kept looking back as if to reassure herself that he was still there. It wasn't right that she should look so lost, so insecure in her own home. If he didn't find a way to get them out of this, he had no idea how he would come to terms with this new life.
While he was carefully observing Usagi, Ikuko made a pointed effort to make Usagi comfortable, showing off the house, pointing to every picture on the wall, and telling Usako the story that went with each one.
It wasn't long before Mamoru was also listening intently, taking it all in. He'd never had vacations to the Studio Ghibli Museum in Tokyo or mud fights with a little brother. There were baby pictures where he wouldn't stop crying unless he had his black cat plushie that bore a striking resemblance to Luna or family portraits in which he was smiling happily.
Emotion welled up in the cavity of his chest, and it caught him off guard. He hadn't expected to be so overwhelmed by this. He'd never had any of this in the real world until he'd met Usagi. And he'd not been able to experience it in this nightmare either. He exhaled to himself, running his hand through his hair, blinking back tears. This nightmare was brutal, and he was ready to get the hell out of here.
A thudding sound behind him made everyone turn to see Shingo skipping down the stairs, headphones in his ears, head bent as he focused on his phone. He looked exactly the same. In his experience, Shingo liked to tease Usagi. Get under her skin in a way that siblings tended to do. It appeared that the nightmare Shingo was no exception, except this time his teasing smirk was directed towards Mamoru as his gaze darted briefly over Usagi, and he raised a taunting brow.
"Onii-chan, you actually showed up for dinner, and you brought a girl?" he teased. "This one is pretty."
Ikuko gasped, halfheartedly smacking the younger boy on the back of his head, eliciting a yelp from Shingo. "Bite your tongue!" she scolded, then offered Usagi an apologetic smile. "Don't you dare mind him, darling. You're the first girl Mamoru's ever brought home."
Ikuko was busily shooing a whining Shingo away, ordering him into the dining room, so she didn't see the way Usagi paled, the bright blue of her eyes a stark contrast to the whitened pallor of her complexion.
This was weird. It was so fucking weird, and Mamoru could only offer her a reassuring smile, gesturing that they should follow Ikuko and Shingo. At first, he wasn't sure if she was going to move, seemingly frozen in place, and he bit back a relieved sigh when she nodded stiffly, quietly following beside him.
What happened next was the strangest dinner he'd ever experienced. They'd been ushered to sit, and Ikuko served okonomiyaki, apologizing that Kenji had to work late while chiding Mamoru for how rarely he visited and fussing over Usagi as if she were the most important person to have ever visited their home.
Mamoru's stomach clenched, panic rising as he watched how Ikuko's praise seemed to have the opposite effect than he'd intended on Usagi.
Ikuko appeared to be oblivious to Usagi's body language, the way she tensed, inwardly retreated, her chopstick moving with the tremble of her hand after each compliment.
"So, Usagi-san," Ikuko quipped brightly. "What do you do for a living?"
Usagi visibly swallowed, shifting uncomfortably under the intensity of Ikuko's stare. "I'm- I'm studying medicine at Keio University, Tsukino-san."
Ikuko's eyes widened, and she gasped, clasping her hands with pleasure. "It's Ikuko, darling," she corrected, and Usagi cringed, nodding apologetically. "How wonderful and prestigious! I'm always telling Mamoru that he could have done so much better if only he'd applied himself a little."
Mamoru frowned, the words echoing hollowly in his memories because he recalled that Usagi had been told something similar and often. At the time, he'd silently agreed because Usagi was so brilliant, but she was so much more than a university degree. She was better, in fact, and his heart skipped a beat, and he wondered if he'd ever even told her that?
"I- I think Mamoru-san is very smart," Usagi replied quietly, her voice shaking as she kept her eyes fixed onto her plate. "He's so much more than school."
Mamoru's breath hitched because he could hear himself in her voice. The longing he remembered so achingly clear that it hurt. The way he'd watched her with her friends before they'd known each other. Before he'd known that she was meant to be with him. That she would make him whole. For some reason, this nightmare had put Usagi in his shoes, and he didn't like it. He couldn't stand to see her like this.
He'd made a mistake bringing her here. He'd made it worse because Usagi hadn't opened up; she was trembling with insecurity, her eyes wide and haunted, and he didn't know what to do. He wanted more than anything to be able to be to her what she was to him, but he didn't know how. All he knew was that he needed to get her out of here, and he opened his mouth to tell Ikuko that they needed to go when Ikuko interrupted him.
"Mamoru!" she exclaimed happily, her hands clasped together. "Where have you been hiding this one? She's fantastic!"
Usagi inhaled sharply and stood. Her movements were panicked, abrupt as she took a fearful step back, her eyes glistening with tears. "I apologize, Tsuko- Ikuko, I really- Oh, I'm so sorry, but I-"
Mamoru flew from his chair, the oak legs wobbling precariously close to tipping over, and took a step towards her. "Usako-"
She seemed to snap out of her stupor, her cheeks flushing red with embarrassment as she tore her tortured gaze away from Ikuko and settled it onto Mamoru. "I have to go."
Before he could say anything, she'd swiveled around, fleeing again as she tore through the house and the front door.
Mamoru didn't think to apologize to a stunned Ikuko as he cursed under his breath, ignoring Shingo's snort of laughter, and raced after her.
She hadn't gone far, stumbling through the front yard, still wearing borrowed slippers as she hadn't stopped in the genkan to change back into her shoes. She almost tripped, but Mamoru caught up to her in time to steady her, gripping her waist before she fell face-first into the grass.
"Usako," he rasped, heart pounding. "I'm so sorry. I don't know what I was thinking. Please, I didn't mean for…" He trailed off when she tore herself out of his embrace, swiveling around to face him.
Her eyes were red-rimmed, bloodshot as tears slipped down her cheeks in torrents, her lips trembling with emotion. "You didn't mean for what, Mamoru?" she choked, angrily swiping at her face with the back of her hand. "Why would you bring me here? What kind of game are you playing?"
Mamoru's heart was breaking. He wanted to pull her into his arms. He wanted to hold her, to fix this, but he knew that she wouldn't let him, and he couldn't stand it. He couldn't fucking stand it.
"I'm not playing, Usako," he rasped, his voice thick and filled with pain. "You have to believe me."
Usagi laughed, the sound hollow and humorless. "Why do I have to believe you?" she snapped. "Because you woke up today and decided that you wanted to be a better person? Am I your project, Mamoru? Show the poor little orphan girl what it's like to have the perfect family?"
Mamoru shook his head, horrified because he hadn't even considered that it would look that way, and he should have known. He, of all people, should have known.
She didn't give him a chance to respond. Taking another step back, she laughed again, the sound desolate, filled with anguish. "Or maybe this is all some kind of prank that you intend to go viral. Where are your friends with the cameras, Mamoru? That's what you did the first time, isn't it?"
He didn't know what the nightmare version of Mamoru had done to her, but it wasn't him, dammit. He would never do that to her.
"No, Usako-"
This time she shrieked, the sound angry and filled with rage, "Stop calling me that!" she half screamed, half sobbed. "Who do you think you are? Why can't you just let me hate you?"
Mamoru swallowed, vision blurring with tears that he tried to blink away. "Do you?" he whispered, his tone hoarse and filled with dread. "Do you hate me?"
His question seemed to catch her off guard, and the tension eased from her posture, and she sniffled, shoulders slumping with defeat and resignation. "No," she choked miserably. "Of course I don't hate you. I've always been in love with you, Mamoru-san. I'll -"
Mamoru frowned when Usagi stopped, straightening as her eyes widened in alarm. Her lips parting on a horrified gasp. "Oh my God," she hissed, her gaze darting around her frantically as if she was searching for something. "Mamo-chan, what the hell is this?"
Mamoru inhaled sharply, heart pounding, pulse racing because she'd called him Mamo-chan, and when her eyes, wide, filled with confusion, settled on him, he could see it. He could feel it. She recognized him. Rei had been right.
He was breathless, choking with relief when he lifted his arms, reaching for her. "Usako," he gasped. "You remember."
She didn't hesitate, flying into his embrace, curling her arms around his waist with the warmth and comfort of his Usako. It was overwhelming, and he wanted to take a moment to break down and process everything that had just happened, but now that he had her, they could work together with Rei and find a way out.
"Mamo-chan, oh God, that was horrible," she whispered, her voice muffled in the fabric of his shirt. "I was a different person. I couldn't remember-"
Mamoru's hand shook as he reverently cradled the back of her head, pressing her closer. "It's okay," he reassured, and, at that moment, he'd meant it. "You remember, and now we can figure out a way to get the hell out of here."
Usagi shook her head, pulling away from him, eyes wide and filled with panic. "Mamo-chan," she hissed, her voice laced with fear. "You don't understand. This isn't real. It's a nightmare. I saw you and the others before I fell unconscious. We're in a dark room, strapped like animals to gurneys. It's-"
Before she could finish her sentence, the loud, headache-inducing buzz tore through his skull, and Usagi screamed, clasping her hands over her ears as they both fell to their knees under the pressure of the agony tearing them apart.
Mamoru lifted his head, reeling from the pain, the horror, and his limbs felt like they were on fire as he tried to pull Usagi back into his arms. Something was happening. He couldn't lose her again; he couldn't.
It didn't matter what he wanted, though, because, in the next instant, Usagi had faded, the comforting warmth of her body just gone. Mamoru wasn't sure what was louder. The buzzing in his head or the roar of anguish that tore from his lips before he fell, and everything went black.
oOo
AN: What did you guys think!? Who do you think it could be? I hope you liked it! Review and let us know!