Thank you-
kera69love: LOL. It's all about perspective. Moon of Mars Rei was the central character and it was her thoughts and views she had on her friends as well as relationships. This chapter though, you'll get to see how Mamoru perceives things.
SaphireShimmer: Thank you! Hopefully this chapter answers some of your questions!
I really appreciate that you took the time to write to me. You're the best!
A/N: As the title implies, this chapter is focused on Mamoru Chiba.
Key for Symbols:
= = ". * ." = = : Text under or above this symbol indicates that the story is current/ if it is used within a paragraph already established as current it means a change in POV
",~~," : Text under or above this mark indicates past/ if it is used within a paragraph already established as past it means a change in POV
As One
Chapter 5
Edge of Earth
",~~,"
= = ". * ." = =
"~ , , ,~'"
When he was first presented the blueprint of Tsuki E No Tōtatsu, he was immediately intrigued. It was like the designer had peered into his dreams and ascertained his need for a stairway to the moon. The balconies of each floor rotated with every apartment, resembling a volute of stairs. Magnificent in its aesthetic, its spiraling design ascended the sky, as if trying to accomplish what the tower of babel could not.
That next night he dreamt of climbing to its top, his black cape billowing in the wind. The tip balanced the illuminating sphere in the sky, forming a pathway to the ground of the moon. For years he'd stood on the edge of the earth, the Princess beyond reach, looking up at the sky. But now, Tsuki E No Tōtatsu bestowed him access. From that day on, the setting had changed; he stood meters away. Yet still her message remained same, 'Retrieve the Silver Crystal.'
Swaggering into his apartment via balcony, Tuxedo mask tossed the rainbow crystal upwards and caught it on its way downward. He felt smug. Successful. There were two in his possession now. It's only a matter of time, he thought just as he fell asleep.
The first thing he noticed was, warm wind, contrary to its typical coolness. Why is it so hot? As soon as his feet touched the Moon's floor, he could sense something was wrong. She faced away from him, as she always did. He waited for her to turn and whisper softly of the silver stone. Instead, he was met with panic; eyes overwhelmed with fear.
"Please," she trembled. "Please, help us. She's burning."
= = ". * ." = =
The sound of his blaring phone ripped him from his somniatory state. Shoving the phone to his ear he grunted.
"Yea?" He demanded; not bothering with formalities. Whoever called him at such an inappropriate time didn't deserve such courtesy.
"Mamoru?"
"Motoki?" Mamoru opened his left eye and shifted his head slightly, squinting at the large digital clock beside his bed. "Why're you calling me at three in the morning!"
"Listen, I need you to give Unazuki-chan the key to open the arcade."
"What?"
"The key is at my place, in the kitchen drawer next to the utensils. You know the one."
"Damn it Motoki," he grumbled.
The fact that Motoki was still unwilling to give his little sister a key to his apartment was annoying. He didn't see why Furuhata was so protective. 'I don't want her inviting some guy over while I'm not there!'
He tried arguing the man's choice, 'Come on, it's Unazuki here, she's your sister.' But the arcade manager refused, paranoid his baby sister would somehow sneak out from her parents and make his apartment her secret love nest. It was ridiculous.
"Thanks. I gotta go," there was a short pause; Mamoru could hear Furuhata shout to someone, "HEY!" Before hanging up.
Rubbing his eyes, he groaned. The arcade opened at 5:00 am, but started prepping at 4:30. It was past 3:00 already, it'd be illogical to go back to bed now, he thought swinging his legs over the bed. Might as well work out. I need some endorphins, fuckin' Motoki, give your sister a damn key!
Japan's legal motorbike noise limit was roughly seventy decibels. When Mamoru tested his KTM, it registered at 85, which forced him to purchase an exhaust silencer. With it put on, the sound decreased by half. He bought the bike four months ago; an upgrade from his last. Its body black, with orange weaved into its different parts. When it came to driving, he preferred the bike. It was sleek, fast, and exhilarating.
He drove to the arcade with five minutes to spare. As he parked his bike Unazuki stood on the curb. He pulled the keys from his pocket.
"Convince your brother to give you a spare," he irked taking his helmet off.
"I tried!"
He placed the visor under his arm. "You still with that boy from school?" The ginger nodded nonchalantly. "Yea well, break up and he'll give you a key." His full lips lifted into a small smile.
She blushed, it was hard not to when the man smiling at her looked as gorgeous as he did. She pushed his shoulder.
"That's not nice Mamoru-san."
"Where's Motoki?"
"Oh, he's at the hospital. He's not checked in or anything," she added hurriedly. "He said something about girls. I dunno. It was too early in the morning," she grumbled. "Thanks." Bowing before heading to the store.
When the girl had unlocked the arcade's front door, he took out his phone. The mobile rang twice before he answered.
"Done." Had Mamoru been anyone else, his greeting would have come off as obnoxious. However, being best friends allowed one the freedom to cut through the social pompous etiquette.
"Thanks, man."
"Unazuki said you're at the hospital."
"Yea. I just finished talking with the police. You won't believe wh-"
"What happened?" On the other side of the phone Motoki rolled his eyes. When it came to him, Mamoru wasn't interested in the "fluff," it was "let's get straight to business." Contrastingly, when they were surrounded by others, he behaved with a professional, albeit reserved, demeanor. His aloof manner was interpreted as cool. There were two sides of his best friend, and if he was extremely honest, the blonde felt special that Mamoru only shared the other side with him.
"Usagi-chan was attacked by -"
"She what!?" Motoki nearly dropped his phone. His hands went up in surprise, sending his phone up in the air, it fumbled from one hand and then, luckily, caught by the other. He took a deep breath.
"It was a monster. I drove the girls -"
"What hospital!" Furuhata pulled the phone from his ear. In all the years he'd known Mamoru, he'd never yelled at him before. He'd done it twice now in less than a minute, the volume, tone, and urgency made his hands sweat.
"Uh, uh, Ju-ju," he stuttered. "Juban Gen-" He didn't get to finish his sentence.
= = ". * ." = =
"~ , , ,~'"
His first memory was of a woman asking him if he remembered his name. It was not a clear memory; he could not recall her face or her voice. But the way he felt upon hearing the question, remained solid- empty.
Because he had no identification, he was referred to as Nanashi Gonbei. According to his medical charts he suffered from a broken arm and amnesia. Fortunately, there was no internal damage. The bones would heal, as for his memories, the doctors could provide no guarantees. It could come back on their own, but for some they didn't. It was a case by case basis. When it came to children whom had no memory or family, they were released to social services. They would sent to an orphanage, until they found a foster family willing to take them.
Gonbei was sent to a small orphanage in Azabu where he lived with twenty other children, cramped and confused. A month later he was called to the main office. He was met by the orphanage overseer and a man dressed in a dark blue suit. His eyes were the color of caramel and his hair was an extremely light shade of blonde; it almost looked white.
"Gonbei-chan this is Tanaka-sama,"she said. "He's an associate of your parents."
The man, whose eyes had locked on the child since he'd come in through the front door, nodded his head once. With his shoulder's squared, he kept his stare on the boy. His eyes devoid of judgement and emotion.
"Your name is Mamoru Chiba," his voice sounded cold. "You are the first and only son of Daichi Chiba and Akahana Chiba." He continued, "Your father owned Chiba corp. You are now its heir. I am their executor and trustee."
"Where are my parents?"
"They're dead. They did not survive," his casual and insensitive tone disturbed the social services director. She had intended to give Nanashi the news in an appropriate manner, with a counselor. She took his hand and patted it softly.
"I'm so sorry, I know it's difficult to hear. If you need to-"
"Chiba-kun, you will be coming to live with me." The director looked up to Tanaka, her eyes disapproving.
"Yes." She said turning her gaze back to the child and smiled gently. "Tanaka-sama knew your parents very well. You get to live with a family of your own! Isn't that exciting!" The overseer did her best to sound enthusiastic. "It's very..." she paused to look back at the executor.
She didn't like him. He was frigid, reserved, and unattached. It wasn't healthy for a child who experienced a traumatic event to be raised by a head of household like Tanaka. Gonbei was in an extremely fragile state. The families characteristics and personality would influence his own. But there was nothing she could do to prevent the adoption. She hadn't the power, and Japan would never have enough money to challenge the Chiba corporation. She could only hope that the man married a woman with a positive and gentle demeanor.
"...fortunate."
The director, in a small way, had been granted her wish. Tanaka's wife was a gentle soul. Conventionally, Koto Tanaka would never be considered beautiful. She was a large woman with dark gold hair and tiny copper colored eyes. Her nose reminded Mamoru of a tortoise; the tip drew down resembling the turtle's head and the ala of her nose its fins. There were little lines at the corner of her eyes that crinkled whenever she smiled; crows feet permanently etched into her skin. It contributed to the most beautiful thing about Koto Tanaka: her ability to laugh and smile through most anything. The ends of her large lips would rise so high that it lifted the fat from her cheeks to rest under her eyes. It was very odd that someone of Hisoka Tanaka's stature to have married Koto.
Hisoka Tanaka came from a well respected family; a long line of doctors and financiers. He was not an ugly man. He was a little more than average in his appearance. His face was angular, definable cheekbones, filled lips, and a strong jaw. He could have married a pretty woman with fine physical features. Yet, for some reason, Hisoka had chosen to marry Koto. Mamoru learned, from his adoptive family, that Hisoka was completely and utterly besotted with his wife long before he proposed to her. He'd met her in his early twenties. She worked at a little toy shop located at the corner of his firm. He'd seen her when he went in to buy his nephew a gift. At first, Mamoru had assumed that Koto had been much lovelier in her youth. But, after looking at pictures, he saw that she looked very much the same.
When he first met his adoptive mother, he thought they'd had an arranged marriage. That the trustee had married her for some underlying reason. Surprisingly, he found that there had been no benefits in marrying her, it was actually the opposite. His adoptive brother had, accidentally let out, that his mom's family had been in great debt. Only after covertly observing the two did he conclude that the man genuinely loved his wife. It was only with her that he smiled. When he thought no one was around, he'd touch her hand or whisper words of love. But, with everyone else Tanaka was a very cold and dismissive man.
Despite Koto's sweet temperament, Tanaka's home was still a very stringent one. The household was run by the butler and head housekeeper. They shared the same personality as their employer. In fact, they had worked for the elder Tanaka family before Hisoka married. After he established a household of his own, the butler and housekeeper joined them. The butler was a very reserved man. Things had to stay on schedule and completed on time. Promptness was his main concern. The housekeeper was an austere woman. The household always had to be in order. Organization was something she drilled into the boys.
However, Mamoru detested the housekeeper. She constantly sought to be near Tanaka. Whenever he was around she'd change her voice sounding sickeningly sweet. She doted on him like a wife. It also angered him how dismissive the housekeeper was of his adoptive mother. She often ignored Koto; sometimes even sneering at her. But, Hisoka's wife never seemed to let it bother her. In any case, the butler would always tend to whatever it was that the housekeeper had ignored. It wasn't until after he left the Tanaka household, that he learned how very in love that butler was with Koto.
Mamoru Chiba was an extremely handsome child. But as he grew, he became more so. His parents genetics largely contributed to that. The Chiba's had been a beautiful couple. They were physically superior. Their skin flawless, their noses without any odd angles, lips that were naturally plump and colored, cheekbones that accented their perfect heart shaped faces, and silky smooth ebony colored hair. Yet, despite their flawless appearance the two were not in love. They never cared for the other, but it was their duty to their namesakes to have a child. The one thing they had shared, was their complete love for their son. But, other than that, they had not held one another dear.
When Chiba was nine, he was approached by a talent agent at a trip to the mall. He'd asked the child's adoptive parents if they'd allow Mamoru to model at their agency. Hisoka immediately refused. Mamoru Chiba was the head of the Chiba corporation and the only child of the Chiba family. To go into such an egregious path in the entertainment field would denigrate his family name. It would impact the company and cause the Chiba reputation harm.
At sixteen Mamoru left the Tanaka household. He purchased an apartment at Tsuki E No Totatsu. By then, his time at the Tanaka's had greatly impacted his personality. Mamoru was a very reserved man, punctual, and organized. However, he knew when and how to smile when the occasion warranted. He learned that from Tanaka's grooming. He'd taken Chiba to many corporate functions. It was pertinent that they know that Mamoru was the heir, and he needed to learn to mingle and speak the language of such status like a noble.
Hisoka Tanaka called him to his office on his sixteenth birthday.
"Mamoru Chiba," he'd said. "It's time," he picked up one of the many papers from his desk and turned it around so the teen could see. "I have fulfilled my responsibility. According to your parents' will, it was requested, if anything should happen to them, that I raise you until you are sixteen, and groom you until you are old enough to take over as head of Chiba corporation at twenty-five. It is now time to leave my house. Here are five new structures being built, you will select one. I will, as requested, continue to groom you until twenty-five. We will continue to study all of the corporations, all of it's subsidiaries, every contract, every partnership. We will continue to go to functions and continue to maintain all relationships we have."
"This one- Tsuki E No Tontasu." Mamoru said, Tanaka nodded.
"You will need an office and guest room."
"I'm fine with one bedroom"
"My decision is final. I will have all the documents set up in your office. You will not get a job anywhere else. Your focus will be on obtaining your degree, and continuing to function as the 'face' of Chiba corp until you are twenty-five. These things will not be negotiated. However, your inheritance does have its stipulations. They include marriage, pregnancy, homosexuality, religion, degree path, and anything else that might damage the Chiba name. Do you understand?" Mamoru nodded in understanding.
"You must give verbal confirmation."
"Yes, I understand."
"You will sign here as proof that you were given a briefing of this part of the will. There is more. But they cannot be divulged until you reach certain conditions."
Mamoru signed.
"I will make a two copies for you to keep. You must always keep two contracts in two separate places. This ensures its safety. Do not lose them. Without them I can take all you money, all your inheritance, you will have nothing."
"Yes. I understand."
",~~,"
= = ". * ." = =
Moving to Japan was a drastic decision. When Aliyah decided, Carmen had just broken up with her, 'I just...don't love you anymore...I'm sorry.' Just days later a position at a Juban General Hospital in Japan opened up. She immediately applied. A week later she received an offer letter and flew out. A transition from American culture to Japanese culture was a difficult one; however being black on top of that made it even more difficult. Although the Japanese people were polite, they were also extremely prejudice against her darkened skin. But, in these past months she started feeling at home. She got along with nearly all the nurses, except for Iwa Maeda. That woman was a witch.
She sighed. Tonight was date night with Aimi...well technically yesterday. She'd gotten called by the hospital. A couple of the nurses had called in sick. Aimi, that beautiful woman, was so understanding. 'My darling, don't worry. You must do your sacred duty. I am blessed to have such an honorable darling.' Still, Aliyah apologized. Carmen was never that way. However, the Japanese culture could not contrast America's more. The Northern American society was a "me" culture: people putting their own interests first. With the Japanese, they put their culture and people first. They had a very strong pride in their Japanese ancestry.
The dark woman was staring outside, when she noticed a motorcycle race through the parking lot. The man pulled his bike up at the front entrance. He didn't even bother to park it, he simply threw off his helmet and ran away, the bike dropped to the gravel. She watched as he dashed towards her, to the entrance of the hospital.
The first thing she noticed about the young man was his physicality. He was extremely beautiful. He had a perfect blend of feminine and masculine features. She admired the art of it. She watched as he sprinted to the front, running straight into the front desk. Being the nosy woman she was, she followed.
"Usagi Tsukino!" he yelled. Tashi was working the front desk. She watched as the older woman typed the information. "Are you her blood relative sir?"
"Where is she?"
"Are you a blood relative?" The man, whoever he was, leaned closer to the counter.
"SIR!" He was speaking in a very low intimidating tone. Then he suddenly bent over and turned the computer. He scanned the screen quickly, found what he wanted, and started walking away. "It's blood relatives ONLY!" she shouted at him. But he ignored her and continued walking. "Call security!" She commanded.
= = ". * ." = =
Mamoru continued to run, zig zagging across the hospital. The security was after him now. Shit.
Whilst running he noticed an employees only door that was slightly ajar. Quickly, he wrenched the door open and hurried inside. The dark haired man huffed and sat on the floor. He'd have to lay low for a little. Once the upheaval passed, he would be able to see her.
= = ". * ." = =
"~ , , ,~'"
He began having dreams about the Moon Princess when he was fourteen. She came to him in all her splendor pleading for the silver crystal. The Princess, she was all he could think about. Her long silvery hair, her sheen white dress, her silky glowing skin. She was his, his meant to be. Rescuing her was crucial, for only then could his memories be restored; each rainbow crystal brought him closer, closer to his Princess, closer to his memories. And then one day, just outside OSA-P jewelry shop, he met Usagi Tsukino.
Upon their first meeting he assessed she was a student at the private Juban Junior High School. Their seifuku was recognizable to anyone living in a twenty mile radius: pleated blue skirt that fell just past the knees; the white long sleeve blouse; the dark naval style collar tied in the front. He noticed that she had adhered a red bow on the front of her uniform, placed just at the knot of her naval collar. It was an accessory that was unique unto her.
That failed math test. He'd made the comment flippantly; a behavior he picked up from Hisoka. He noticed her after the insult. She had such odd hair, and before he could stop himself he'd made another rude statement. She stomped over, angrily retracting her test, making a face before walking away. He didn't think any thing of it at the time. But later that day, he'd found himself thinking about her again.
The girl with golden hair in odango styled pigtails; large azure eyes that were wide with appall at his first offense, then turned dark sapphire at the second. The girl with the heart shaped face, skin a shade of tanned ivory and cheeks that flushed like candied apples in embarrassment. The girl with a tiny nose that came to tip and nostrils that flared when he scoffed at her large red thirty. The girl with lips that were plump, tiny and a natural tint of pink that had parted to reveal a bubble gum tongue when she blew a raspberry in his face. That odd hair, the face she made. He grinned to himself.
"So, what're you smiling about?" Motoki asked.
He'd shaken his head and replied, "Nothing."
Then he ran into her again...more like she ran into him. She bowed in apology, and he immediately recognized that odd hairstyle. He started talking before he even realized it. When his ears caught up with his diatribe, he cringed inwardly. Her eyes narrowed and she clenched her fists to the side. He remembered thinking, how cute, as she was shouting back at him.
He started developing a strange feeling when around her. but he couldn't determine what it was. What he did know was she gave him awkward bodily sensations. Things he wasn't familiar with. His stomach, for example, felt like...a tickle...or a flutter. His heartbeat quickened and his palms became sweaty. Later, he would try to decipher what it was the girl with the odd hair was creating.
He bequeathed her the moniker Odango Atama. Originally, it had been a literal observation. Her hairstyle made it look like she had buns on her head. It wasn't intended to be a sobriquet, but when she bumped into him he realized he didn't know her name. Hence, he referred to her description odango atama. When he witnessed her heated response though, he felt excited. Eventually he learned her given name from Motoki, Usagi Tsukino.
There was something about Usagi Tsukino. She was like a magnetic force, he was constantly drawn to her. He looked for her. He proceeded to, purposely, run into her. He was quite sure that he'd be categorized as a minor stalker. But, he couldn't seem to control himself. She took up half his dreams. The other half being the obscure Princess.
He yearned to see Usagi smile at him, but couldn't bring himself to say anything that would. Each time he saw her, he teased her. It was elating to watch her face contort or see her stomp around. It had started out as a defense mechanism. She was fourteen; it was inappropriate to find someone so young desirable. It made him feel guilty and rather 'dirty.' He reasoned if she detested him, she'd distance herself. Things went exactly as planned...too well though. She developed such an adverse reaction to him, that being within his vicinity was, for her, overbearing. He hadn't meant for that to occur. He'd only meant to dispel, to the public, that he was not attracted to the junior high-schooler. He didn't want her to run away. He still wanted to see her.
",~~,"
= = ". * ." = =
Waiting was something he was accustomed to. His time sporting his cape and mask required him to remain concealed for, sometimes, hours. Regardless, as he stood in the darkened room he could not patiently wait. Only ten minutes passed, well...less than ten. But the minutes were long. He was anxious and uneasy, standing up, sitting down, pacing around. I need to see her. I need to know she was okay.
Although he was able to glean her room number from the front desk computer, he was unable to find any information on her condition. His thoughts were running in a loop. How is she? What's wrong? How did it happen? Is she okay? Why did this happen?
Unable to stay put, Mamoru left the room. He straightened up, and walked as nonchalantly as possible to the elevators. His mind brought forth the image of the screen. The location 14 – C emerged; he pushed the metallic button. It took its time getting to the main floor. He cursed. Why is it, he thought, whenever I'm in a hurry everything's so slow? The elevator stopped five times before it made it to the fourteenth floor. Was there some mysterious all knowing force that was purposely trying to mess with him?
Once outside, Chiba gently pulled down the handle and opened it an inch. Peeking inside he could see Makoto's brown haired ponytail. She was standing there, looking out the window. He closed the door and banged his head against a wall. How long is she going to take? I need to see her. He couldn't just walk in when others were there. It would be odd, to anyone who knew them, Mamoru visiting Usagi.
He went back down the elevator, back to the same closet. He was lucky the first time, fleeing the security. The door was slightly ajar and it just so happened to be an employee room. It was safe from security. When he returned to it, it was not luck that allowed him in, but his forethought to rig the door. He slipped back into the room and sat back down. Whether he liked it or not, he'd have to wait.
= = ". * ." = =
"~ , , ,~'"
Less than a month after meeting her, he easily found that she spent a majority of the time at the Motoki's arcade. Why didn't I ever notice she's a regular? She skipped in, jumped near the counter, and ordered a chocolate milkshake. She always ordered food, although what she ordered changed depending on her mood. Prior to meeting her, he studied at his apartment or the university library. He'd decided to move his study spot to an empty booth in the arcade; arguing, to himself, that the change in venue was due to; the library facilitated offers of group study, to which disliked; his home afforded too many distractions. It had nothing to do with any person who came to the Crown.
Mamoru was a man that set and followed a routine, another trait he picked up from the Tanaka household. It was rare for him to change his habits. But when he did, he would subconsciously adapt a consistent pattern with it. In the arcade he sat at the same booth, at the end of the arcade in the corner. It was next to the window wall, which enabled him to view people bustling about the walk ways. Motoki, knowing his friend well, reserved the table for him; leaving a 'reserved seating' plaque on it. He sat against the wall so he faced the automatic doors. The position of the booth allowed him to monitor all of the diner and part of the arcade. His alter ego knew it was a perfect place to gather information and study the habits and patterns of those who frequented arcade.
Oddly, Chiba had the unusual desire to forgo his typical look: green jacket, black shirt, and slacks. Instead he wore jeans and a fitted t-shirt, a gift from his college friend Kobayashi. Although he sat in his favored booth, he chose to face in the opposite direction, the sliding doors behind and the white plastered wall directly in front. He'd been sitting, reading a contract draft for a little more than thirty minutes when he heard her. In four months he'd come to know her voice well. But even if he was uncertain, when he heard Naru's laugh he was positive that Odango had walked in. Naru had a very peculiar laugh; it was like a long series of hiccups. He heard them slide in the booth just behind him.
The university man's habitual routine was an advantage for Usagi. Since he faced the doors she could clearly see his face as soon as she walked in, that and his signature jacket always alarmed her of his presence. Therefore, avoiding him on her bad days was an easy task. If she saw him, she'd head somewhere else. Today when she walked in, she didn't see his face nor his trademark jacket.
"I like him...a lot," he overheard her say. She was located directly behind him; they were sitting back to back, seperated only by the backs of their booths. He knew she was with Naru, he'd heard as much. He wasn't sure if that new girl was with them. A little while ago, a girl with dyed blue hair had begun spending time with them. What was once a duo was now a trio. He didn't hear anyone other than Odango and her ginger haired friend, so it was possible she wasn't there. No, that wasn't her. His little Odango would never leave a friend out. The short haired girl was there, she just hadn't spoken yet.
"~ , , ,~'"
"I...I think about him all the time. Do you think...maybe...he notices me?" She asked them.
"Hmmm," Naru looked up, resting her chin on her hand. "Does he have a girlfriend?"
"I don't know...I've never asked him," she flushed, pushing her pointer fingers against one another nervously. "But, he smiles at me all the time." She bit her lip. Mamoru listened in anxiously. Is it me?
"But isn't that like...his job? What'dya think Ami-chan?" The short haired girl sat immersed in her book.
"Ami!" Usagi cried, jumping up from her seat and slapping the book in the girl's hands down. The book hit the table with a thump. "Are you even listening! This is important! This is my love life we're talking about!" She whined sitting back down.
"Oh, oh, oh," she said looking to her friends surprised, almost like she was unaware she even had any. "Of course I was listening," she blushed. "You're in love with Motoki-san and want him to be your boyfriend, but..." There was a sudden spike in his body. It felt as if his blood was boiling. "But..."
"You're out of luck Odango Atama," he interrupted. He turned his torso, allowing his head to look over at hers. Her face snapped towards him. Her eyes were like dark sapphires; she stared into his cerulean eyes.
"Get lost baka! And what are you doing being creepy and listening in on our conversation, huh?! Jerk." She pulled her knees under her bottom to grant her height. Her head and shoulders past the top of the seats.
"It just so happens," he mocked, "That I'm your crush's best friend. And as his best friend I have to look out for snot nosed children like you," Mamoru sneered. "He has a girlfriend. Her name is Reika, she's beautiful and smart, and a whole bunch of other things you're not. It also helps that she's not a little kid who plays little video games."
The blonde's eyes widened in shocked. She bit at her cheek and then dropped her head down. She was staring at the partition the back of the booths created. Her eyes focused on the red padding that covered it.
"He's never going to give you a second glance. He's in love with Reika, in fact, they live together. So you shouldn't waste his time trying to follow him like a lost little puppy." His eyes narrowed, with her head bowed all he could see was the top of her hair. ,"When it comes down to it, he will never be interested in someone like you." He exhaled loudly, "You know, you should thank me for being so honest with you."
He heard an extremely soft thud, then another, and another. He looked down at the top of the seat and saw little water droplets. For a second he wondered if there was a leak. He quickly looked at the ceiling for signs of water damage, he quickly assessed there was none, and looked back at girl. Her head was still bent. When she finally lifted them up, he saw she was crying. But it wasn't her normal wailing. She simply looked at him, tears falling silently from azure irises. She picked up her back pack and left, her two friends looked coldly at him before leaving to her. He didn't see her for two weeks after that.
",~~,"
= = ". * ." = =
For the first time, Mamoru examined the closet. Initially, he'd assumed the space to be a supply room. Fortuitously, he discovered it was a dry cleaning room. On the other side of the wall was a mechanical belt, filled with fresh cleaned uniforms. Each one was wrapped in plastic; ready to be used for the day. He stood up and took one of longest doctor's jackets he could find. Generally, being tall was an attractive feature in a man. However, in that moment, whilst trying to find a doctor's coat he cursed being above average. Finding a coat that could fit him comfortably was time consuming. They were either too short or too tight. Had he not been in hiding, he would have shouted in frustration. Eventually he found one, it was on the shorter side, but at least it fit his broad shoulders.
After years of attending functions, gatherings, and ceremonies, Mamoru Chiba knew how to exude an unquestionable professional air. The first ceremony he went to, at eight, was a Tanabata festival. He had not gone as a participant, he attended to provide a sense of security for those in Chiba corp. Tanaka had trained him everyday for a month; he was expected to radiate humility, authority, and strength. Despite being a child, he had a multitude of responsibilities to maintain his reputable name. Therefore, pretending to be a doctor was nothing but child's play. No one would question such a confident and intimidating man.
Taking the elevator to the fourteenth floor, he turned left to the hallway that marked A – K. Floor fourteen was dedicated to the TICU, trauma intensive care unit. Based on his medical courses he knew not everyone who checked into TICU was on the verge of dying. However, he also knew that the statistics evidenced that one-third of those who did died.
It is important to remember that when one is in a situation where they may be caught in the act of lying, never hesitate with one's actions. A slight pause in actions and even with words can indicate insecurity and fear. Arriving at her room, he opened the door. He then took the chart on opposite side of the door. He didn't bother to look whether or not someone was there. With the clipboard in one hand he walked over to the front desk.
"14-C, the chart is missing. Can you put that together?"
He didn't bother to look at the person, he wasn't even sure if they were male or female. Once he gave the directions he left as if he had another appointment. He returned to the ground floor, back to the dry cleaning room. If there was an area that they kept the cleaned clothes, logically there would be another room close by to have them dry cleaned. Spotting it a few feet away, he quickly disrobed, opened the door and threw the jacket in the bin. Now that he had the information, he could go through his text books to find out what happened.
= = ". * ." = =
"~ , , ,~'"
It was a miserable two weeks. He had no desire to do anything: eat, sleep, study, fight. He was useless on the battle field. He hadn't seen Odango in two weeks. She was definitely avoiding Motoki, avoiding the arcade...avoiding him. He didn't run into her either. It was likely...that she hadn't left her house. He was walking through the park when he at long last, saw her. She had a new girl in her small group.
She sat next to a raven haired girl with the most interesting eyes. He walked towards them slowly, afraid if she spotted him, she'd elope. Her best friend Naru was standing a few feet away from the blonde. She looked extremely uncomfortable. The blue haired girl sat on the other end of the bench with a textbook.
"Ami!" Naru sounded quite exasperated with the book worm. She snatched the book away from her and put it under her arm. "We're here to have fun! Well..." she started to mumble. Her eyes flickered over to the long haired girl; she looked back at Naru.
"Oh shut it! You're so dramatic!" The raven head snapped. The two began shouting at one other.
Usagi laughed loudly. She was eating ice cream, and accidentally snorted some of the confection. She started choking. Mamoru laughed so hard he fell onto his back side. He laughed so hard, his side cramped. When he finished, he stood up and dusted his pants, continuing to chuckle.
"Odango Atama! You're a riot! You're the only one who could choke on ice cream!" She was standing close to him, he could smell her, she smelled like vanilla ice cream and bacon. He was staring at two sapphires. He'd stopped laughing as soon as he realized her nearness. She was so close, if he just bent down a little more... Then his face was freezing. She was pushing her ice cream into his face, and moving it around. She smashed it on his eyes, his nose, his mouth and his cheeks. He opened his eyes and found her smiling, her eyes glittering mischievously. She trailed the ice cream down his neck, which was oddly erotic. Something he would later bring up in daydreams. She finished by balancing the cone on the top of his head.
"Thank you," she smiled sweetly. She turned around and skipped away.
"Oh my god Meatball Head!" The girl that had been sitting next to her jumped up to her feet and ran to the Mamoru with napkins. She tried to wipe him down. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry. Meatball Head come over and help!" The other two were still in shock.
"He's fine," she waved her off and continued walking. "Let's go to the arcade, I'm hungry!" Both Naru and the other Juban student ran to catch up, whilst the other stayed back to assist him.
He learned the girl with interesting eyes's name was Rei Hino. A shinto priestess. She was a pretty raven haired girl, they had similar personalities, and she was extremely nice to him, unlike his Odango Atama. He started thinking of her like his own Unazuki, that and...ashamedly, she provided him more opportunities to see Usagi. He found, that whenever he agreed to hang out with her, it was nearly guaranteed that he'd meet up with his Odango.
",~~,"
= = ". * ." = =
There were several dents on the left side of his bike and the side mirror had broken off. Luckily, his helmet was still there, albeit in bad condition since he literally threw it down. He picked up the motorcycle and got on. The fact that the bike still worked was the only thing that really mattered to him. The damage was only cosmetic. He wouldn't need to ask Saito to repair it, although he might request that he examine the bike just in case.
As Mamoru walked through the lobby he nodded at Jouji. The man was on the phone, but he smiled and lifted his head slightly in acknowledgment. It suddenly dawned on Chiba that he'd lost his phone. It was, likely, broken on the sidewalk in front of the arcade. He'd have to buy another. No matter, he could do that quickly tomorrow.
"Rei-chan?" Turning her head slowly, her violet eyes looked into his. She appeared sickly, despondent. Her matted hair enmeshed her forehead and the tresses tangled; her feet were bare and blackened; her arms tightened around her legs; her skin dull with the dried layer of sweat. After assessing her worn condition, he took out his card key and opened the door. "You should shower. Go ahead and throw your clothes in the wash and get cleaned up." As she went to clean herself up, he made his way to the main area.
He didn't care for his living room. It was filled with furniture that was barely used. When he'd get home at the end of the day, the large space made him feel empty; as if it was taunting him. But, when he did have a get-together, the furniture came in handy. It was something people liked to use as an ice breaker. 'Wow, your furniture is gorgeous.' Although, there weren't many parties he hosted; a majority of the time it was Motoki. Furuhata loved using his apartment for his gatherings.
= = ". * ." = =
"~ , , ,~'"
Mamoru met the arcade manager when he was sixteen. After he successfully moved into the furnished apartment he decided to survey the area. The distance from his apartment to the shopping district was a twenty to thirty minute walk. Once he saw the gold letters painted on the sliding door he walked in. He'd never been to an arcade before. The Tanaka's were not the type of parents who took their children to a gaming shop. The glass doors parted as soon as he stepped onto the carpeted area before the doors, its cold air condition blowing down.
He remembered it was loud. On the left side there were various machines. Some of them were large rectangles were kids stood in front yelling and pushing buttons. Some had seats where people pretended to drive. There were so many options of play. On the right side was a diner, gaudy red booths, and cheap leather stools that spun when sat on. Mamoru Chiba walked straight to the linoleum counter and sat on one of the tacky high bar stools. There was a menu propped up with a little metal contraption, he pulled it to him so he could read the options. Going through the different items, he realized there was no tying cuisine type from the myriad of choices. It looked like random foods thrown on a menu without any real consideration to the restaurateur.
"What's up. What can I get ya?" Chiba looked up from his menu to see a kid his age with dijon colored hair and dark green eyes. The guy was smiling, waiting for him to order. Mamoru thought the way he approached a customer was odd. Usually, the waiter introduced themselves and went into a memorized script from the restaurant.
"I haven't seen you before. You just move here?" Mamoru confirmed with a head nod. "You don't really talk much do ya?" The waiter laughed. He extended his hand, "I'm Motoki Furuhata."
"Mamoru Chiba," he said shaking the boys hand.
"My dad runs the joint. You transfer here or something?"
"No. I moved to an apartment here, but I still go to school in another district."
"Cool, cool, cool. You have family in the area?"
"No." Motoki laughed again. He found the guy's short responses hilarious. "Why're you laughing?"
"You. You're funny man." Mamoru quirked an eyebrow. "It's nothing bad," the employee said, putting his hands up in a 'don't be offended' gesture, while smiling. "Where do you go to school?"
"Daigaku."
"Holy shit! No way! That's for like, people with money!...Money, money," he emphasized, his eyes wide with shock. "You go to Daigaku and your family moved here to Juban-Azabu?" Motoki shook his head in disbelief. "This is like…a 'mid-level income bracket' town."
"It's just me," he clarified. "My parents are dead." Motoki's eyes shifted to the left.
"That sucks. Sorry." There was an awkward silence between the two. "Man, I feel like a jackass now. Tell you what, foods on me. What're you cravin'?"
"Honestly, I don't know. I've never been to a place like this before."
"Most people like the burgers and milkshakes."
"That sounds good," said Mamoru.
The dark blonde went to the back and called out an order, then began blending the milkshake.
Suddenly, Mamoru felt bad that he'd made Motoki so uncomfortable. The topic of his parents' death was never an emotional one. Hisoka Tanaka was a very realistic man. Death was part of life and it was also part of his business. There were no need for tears when discussing it. Therefore, talking about not having parents wasn't something that discomforted him. The thing that did cause him dismay was his inability to remember.
However, he was aware that the general public found the topic of death an uncomfortable one. Yet at the same time, there weren't many situations that he had to mention his lack of parents. Everyone in the corporation and those who interacted with him knew.
When Motoki returned, Mamoru apologized for making him feel uneasy.
"What? Make me feel uncomfortable? I thought I was making you feel…sad or something." The teen gave a sigh of relief. Then smiled again. Mamoru noted that the guy was really into smiling. But, he supposed, it was something required in the customer service sector.
"So Daigaku. You must know really famous people, well…their kids I mean. Are you friends with anyone famous?"
"Not really. I don't have many friends. I have like…one or two." The sound of a bell interrupted them before Motoki could speak. He turned around to pick up the food and put the plate in front of Chiba.
"Well, now you've got three," the blonde said. Mamoru smirked. "So, I get off work in fifteen. Then we can hang over at your place."
Mamoru had just swallowed his first bite of the burger, when he finally processed what Motoki had said. He looked at the blonde in confusion.
"Did you just invite yourself over to my apartment?"
Motoki looked smug, nodding his head. "Yup, it something friends do. Invite themselves over. Especially when they find out their friend goes to Daigaku. I need to see your yearbook. I've gotta see the hotties at that prep school. Then there's the fact that you're probably loaded. Friends use their friends' money. It's like…a rule…of friendship."
Mamoru nearly choked on his second bite because he started laughing.
",~~,"
= = ". * ." = =
Sitting on the couch near his window wall, he began reading through the report. When Motoki had stated that Usagi was in the hospital, his entire being went into overdrive. He couldn't hear anything else. The only thing he wanted to know was her whereabouts. So as he read through the cause, he felt dizzy. He placed the clipboard on the coffee table and leaned back into the chair.
She was attacked by a youma? How is that even possible? He took several breaths to lower his heart rate. Perhaps he'd read it wrong. He picked up the papers and read it again.
"But I was there," he heard himself say out loud. "I didn't…I didn't see…Why didn't I…" He pulled at his hair in frustration, trying to recall the fight. He conjured the memory and tried to focus on the background, the small details. Was she already down? When was she attacked? Did another youma come out after the first was vanquished by Sailor Moon? He groaned audibly, huffing. I should have stayed longer. If I had, she'd be okay.
He read through her vitals, everything looked normal. He paused, the doctor noted that there was a sizable bruise that covered almost half her midsection. In fact, it was mentioned that she had several bruises on her body, many of them in different states of age. The fact that her vitals were normal should have been an indicator that she would recover quickly. Yet, at the bottom it stated she was in a coma and could find no reason for it.
There weren't many times that Mamoru felt overwhelmed. He wasn't prone to panic or fear. But that didn't mean he never had them. After his first panic attack the Tanakas had, secretly, phoned a trusted friend to diagnose and treat it. Once the doctor was finished they told the Tanakas that Mamoru was fine.
"The boy was having an emotional reaction, which is normal. But, the reason Chiba-kun had went into a panic was his inability to recognize the emotion. Therefore his brain tried to reject it which led to his physical reaction."
"What does that mean?" Koto asked. She wrapped her chubby arm to comfort the child.
"He has to learn to recognize he has an emotion and take a breath." The doctor bent down to the young boys level. "Sometimes you'll have to take several deep breaths. But you need to remind yourself, 'I'm just having an uncomfortable feeling, I am okay.'"
At twenty two Mamoru sat, repeating the same process: recognize the emotion, inhale deeply, hold your breath, release air slowly. She was in a coma and the doctors weren't sure why. Recognize, inhale, hold, release. He wasn't sure when, but at some point he'd closed his eyes. He was resting the back of his head on the top of the seat.
He heard Rei enter and take sit on the couch adjacent of him. She was quiet. She was, likely, processing all that happened. In traumatic situations, people often shut down. He was sure that was what was happening; he'd have to make sure he used as little words as possible and be direct. Otherwise, it would likely confuse her. But knowing it and putting it in to practice are two separate things. He felt like shaking her, demanding she explain everything from start to finish. As a doctor he would be faced with similar cases, where he felt the opposite of what was demanded. Even as the head of the corporation there had been contracts that were signed, despite his disliking the person. It was business. So he asked her in a calm voice, what was wrong.
She revealed what he already knew. It irritated him that she didn't have any more information and that she'd gone into a haze once they arrived at the hospital. But, it wasn't her fault. When she voiced that what happened was her fault, he firmly disagreed; because it was his fault. He should have saved his Usagi.
= = ". * ." = =
"~ , , ,~'"
How was it, he thought, that he'd never seen her before and then suddenly she appeared everywhere he went? Was it fate? Or it could be, his sneaky subconscious whispered, that we purposely look for her? If he wasn't so intent in crossing her path, then maybe he should stop taking the same route and routine, if he truly didn't care to see her. But if he purposely went out of his way to take a different path wasn't that the same as admitting he did care?
He didn't have time to be thinking about a child, he chided himself. He had a Princess waiting for him. He had a super heroine in an extremely alluring outfit that called to him. Odango was…well, he wasn't sure what she was.
The way she made him feel was weird. He wasn't familiar with it; it was foreign. For some odd reason she made him behave in the exact opposite of his regular apathetic personality. When she was around he felt an excitement that ran through his bones. He was eager to tease her, interact with her in a way he'd never with anyone else. It was like throwing caution to the wind.
However, there were times when he snapped back to reality; like a bucket of freezing water was dumped upon him. It was then that he'd slip back into his normal self. He was dismissive and uncaring. He walked away without looking back, often scolding himself for being unable to control his weird reaction to her. Why was it so hard to be himself around her?
She also made him do outrageous things, like follow her. He didn't understand his compulsion to see her. It was bordering on creeper status. It wasn't like he was obsessed with her. He could function just fine. It was his desire to see her that irritated him.
Identifying something that one has never come across is difficult. The only thing he knew, was to turn to research and books. His first instinct was to go to the University library's Medical floor. He sat with various books, trying to diagnose his condition. First, he wrote down the various symptoms that she caused: increase in heart rate, chest pain, unexpected behavior change, mental processes, increase in body temperature. What he discovered was, he might have any of the following: brain trauma, brain tumor, suffered from a mild heart attack, diabetes, various types of infections. In response to his findings, he scheduled a full medical work up. To his dismay, he found that he was perfectly healthy.
",~~,"
= = ". * ." = =
Mamoru Chiba did not get to see Usagi Tsukino until 10:00 pm. Unsurprisingly, purchasing a doctor's coat was an easy task. They hadn't even asked for his credentials; the woman simply looked up, asked his name, and then embroidered it on the white robe. He waited until visiting hours were over, to ensure he didn't run into anyone, and made his way to her room without incident.
The first thing he saw, were her covered feet. The blanket that draped her body was a cheap tan cotton blanket. His eyes moved up, taking in the various mechanisms attached to her body, the needles in her veins, stickies that covered parts of her body to monitor her heart and brain. So this is what it feels like, to be on the other side. He never considered what it might be like to be the one receiving the results, than giving them.
It was strange. His future was never going to be in the medical field. It probably would have been best to go into business or law. However, the thought of healing people was attractive. According to his parents will, if he wanted his inheritance, there were only five possible college pathways that were allowed: business, law, medicine, engineering, architecture. So he chose medicine.
"Odango." he said softly, standing by the door. His hope for her to spring to life and yell, was diminished after a few seconds. Quietly, he headed to her bedside. His pupils dilated and his cobalt color darkened into a shade of navy. He extended his hand over her face; his fingers hovered over her cheek, then swiftly he retracted and placed them back in his pocket. He walked over to the chair beside the bed and sat down. It was obvious that someone had recently been sitting. The contour of the cushion dipped. He sat and stared at her hand, letting the silence sit among them.
"I'm not good at expressing my emotions, and it's never been something that I found particularly important. At the same time," he paused, "I'm not purposely dismissive of them either." He stopped for a moment, as if allowing her to take in his words. "The thing is…when I'm around you, I feel strange and I act bizarrely. It's never happened before. It's confusing.
You know," he continued. He pressed his elbows to his knees and leaned forward. "I tried to diagnose my condition. I can tell you with certainty that I found no helpful information in any medical text. But, thanks to you, I do know that I don't have any chronic illnesses; I'm perfectly healthy." He smiled and relaxed into the couch. He listened to the rhythm of the heart monitor, allowing the steady beat to wash over him.
"You going to university Odango? I don't know if you'd get in with 30% on math tests," he laughed. "Ah," he sighed, "You've got parents that'll probably push you to go. It's not so bad, depending on your major. With a personality like yours, you'd probably flourish there. It makes me a little jealous. Sometimes I wonder what Id've been like if I had parents. A good happy childhood without all that responsibility. But, honestly, the thought never goes far. It doesn't really bother me that I didn't.
Well, when you go to college Odango there are required courses. You can't whine and complain to administration about not wanting to take it. You have to take them and they're all the classes you constantly complain about: math, English, writing.
This year, I took poetry. I figured it would be the easiest. Poems are short, I wouldn't have to read any novels. Can you believe that I found my answer in a poem book? I'd been irritated all this time trying to diagnose my condition and I ended up finding the answer in English lit. Anyway," he shifted in his seat and took out a small white rectangle. "This is it." He waved the folded paper in the air. "It's by Pablo Neruda." He unfolded the parchment. I can't do this, he thought. She was in a coma, it shouldn't scare him. But for some reason it did. It wasn't as if she'd suddenly wake up as he was spouting verses. He took a deep breath, and stared at her face. Then began to read to her softly,
I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.
Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.
Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day
I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.
I hunger for your sleek laugh,
your hands the color of a savage harvest,
hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails,
I want to eat your skin like a whole almond.
I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body,
the sovereign nose of your arrogant face,
I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes,
and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight,
hunting for you, for your hot heart,
like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue.
She continued to sleep and he put away the words in his back pocket. He pushed himself up and leaned over her. His face mere inches from hers.
"I...I don't mean to tease you." His eyes blurred and he tried to blink back the tears. "Truth...you're the reason why I go to the crown everyday." He felt a tear escape from the others. "I make it a point to bump into you every morning." He whispered smiling. " When you're late... I wait... and when I see you running. I make sure I'm in your way." He laughed, and the movement caused more tears to fall. "You've turned me into some basic level stalker..." He chuckled again. His smile faded, and his eyes concentrated on her small heart-shaped face. "You're the reason…" He paused and tried to rephrase what he wanted to say. "That Pablo guy, gave my feelings a name. You are my 'Love Sonnet'…Don't you see? With you, I feel whole. So you can't go...you have to wake up."
Wow, I didn't realize this chapter would be so long. But then again, he's the other main character so...I shouldn't be too surprised. However, I do hope you liked it! Please read and review!