AN: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, FLORAONE! Thank you for your patience as it's taken me three years to get this far with your birthday gift. Hopefully you'll forgive me for playing it up like I had nothing for you xD I love you, and I hope you enjoy what little of this you haven't seen.

A huge thank you to TinaCentury for conspiring with me on this and betaing for me, so I could surprise FloraOne on her birthday. You always come in clutch for me, and I appreciate you so much!

Enjoy lovelies, and thank you for your patience!

oOo

Train stations had always fascinated Mamoru. How they came alive every day with untold numbers of nameless people who all had stories and lives and love. It was comforting to him in a strange way. It was the reason he often took the train to work instead of his car or bike. He never felt quite…alone in them.

And these days, he loved them for a completely different reason. A reason he certainly hadn't been expecting when he'd stepped onto the Shinkansen six months ago, and found his seatmate was a blonde bundle of energy, a total force to be reckoned with, the now love of his, up until recently, aimless life.

Usagi to everyone else. Odango atama when he wanted to see that flash of anger flare in her eyes. Tsukino for when she insisted on teasing him by calling him Dr. Chiba. Usako, the name that was just for him. The name he was afraid he'd never get to utter again.

He slumped down on one of the few benches located on the Shinkansen platform, and checked his watch. 5:45 am. Still a little early, but unlike earlier in the night, the minutes now seemed to pass slowly just to taunt him.

Usagi had tried to convince him he needed a smart watch a couple of months back, laying out her case that it would help him get better sleep (he'd rolled his eyes at this logic) and track his steps and remind him to call her, as if he needed reminding of that. He'd resisted, insisting that he was perfectly fine with his 'old boring watch', as she'd so lovingly called it. Of course, at the time he didn't have the heart to tell her it had once belonged to his father, and instead just enjoyed the fact that she worried over him.

He smiled at the memory. He smiled at every memory he had about her. She was…everything to him. But apparently, over the last six months, he'd never managed to make that clear to her.

The look on her face before she'd turned away from him the night before was burned into his mind. Would probably haunt him in one way or another for the rest of his life.

It was the reason he'd spent the past four hours going to half a dozen hotels in the hopes of finding her. It hadn't worked. He knew it wouldn't, and his head had been pounding in protest with every step he took as he fought down the aftereffects of all the scotch he'd drank.

But he had to try. He'd never have forgiven himself if he hadn't.

It was the very reason he was sitting on the train platform now. The same reason he had purchased a ridiculously priced train ticket to Tokyo, one that he wasn't going to use, as soon as the station office opened.

He had to try.

Makoto hadn't been exactly sure which train Usagi had booked herself on to get back to Tokyo. Only that it was leaving on Sunday. And he was grateful for any bit of information he could get, considering how angry Usagi's friend had seemed the night before.

oOo

"Here, drink this," Makoto said, throwing a bottle of water at him which he fumbled to catch. If Mamoru wasn't one hundred percent sure he was drunk, he would have sworn there was a not so secret smile on her face from watching him struggle.

He managed to get the cap off without too much difficulty, though every so often he wasn't sure if he was holding one bottle or two, as his vision split. "What did she mean that I never come after her?"

She paused for a brief moment from scrubbing the plate she was holding, and if looks could kill, he was fairly certain he'd be dead. "Aren't you a doctor or something?"

He suddenly felt the need to defend himself, though in his clouded state, he couldn't exactly place why. "I don't see how that matters, but yes."

"Then how are you possibly this dense?" she shot back, one eyebrow raised. "I mean you're an articulate drunk, I'll give you that much, but after hearing how brilliant you are for the past few months, I'm not so convinced."

He almost choked on the sip of water he was taking. "That's...not very nice," he said slowly, immediately realizing he sounded like a wounded four year old on the playground.

Her face softened the tiniest bit. "Listen, Dr. Chiba, I'm not exactly sure what you're wanting me to do here? If you're really unsure why Usagi ran off, if you honestly can't see what's right in front of your face, that's not something I can tell you."

There was a desperation growing inside of him. He was still amazed he'd had enough of a clear mind to come back to the venue to find Makoto at all. She was his last hope, and she couldn't help him.

Mamoru placed his elbows on the counter and buried his head in his hands, fingers raking through his hair and pulling, and the words just spilled out. "It's over isn't it? I've ruined everything. I tried so hard to go slowly, to not pressure her, even when I didn't want to. There was no need to scare her with the fact that I've been in love with her since the beginning. I mean what kind of sane person falls in love with someone they just met on a goddamn train? And god, I told her about my parents, what a sob story. I pushed too hard. I'm such an idiot."

A bottle of alcohol that was sitting on a nearby counter caught his eye and he reached for it, wanting nothing more than to drink himself into a blackout that could erase the look on Usagi's face from his mind.

But a pink manicured hand beat him to it.

"You can't be serious?" she said, apparently shocked at his desire to drown his sorrows.

He reached for the bottle, but she yanked it out of his grasp and he growled at her a bit.

"Let me have it," he said, again sounding like a petulant child.

"You're honestly going to sit here and drink and feel sorry for yourself instead of going after her?" she asked incredulously, placing the bottle behind her, guarding it with a defensive stance.

"She doesn't care about me anymore," he groaned, wondering if his eyes looked as bleary as they felt, while his head began to pound. The light in the kitchen became too much for him, and he folded his arms on the counter and his head in their cushion.

Neither of them spoke for a while as workers continued to come back and forth from the ballroom working as fast as they could towards the promise of being finished and released to head home to friends and family and sleep.

Mamoru knew he was making a spectacle. Knew he would be thoroughly embarrassed by his display once he sobered up, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

She was gone. Usagi was gone.

A soft hand on his arm jolted him back to his full height, and he was greeted with an understanding smile from Makoto that confused him almost as much as Usag didi.

"Mamoru-san," she said, and he was relieved to hear her use his first name, something he'd insisted she use since the first time they'd been introduced in an effort to win over any of Usagi's friends he could. "You know Usagi. You know her really well. But there's certain things she likes to hide to protect herself. And she may have led you to believe that she was okay with this being casual. That she was capable of this being a fun fling and nothing more. But she's not."

Even though his head was starting to clear a bit with the weight of his loss, Makoto's words didn't quite make sense. "I don't...understand?"

She smiled slightly, and it calmed him a bit. "She is always all in. With everything she does. There is nothing casual about her. Especially when it comes to the people she loves," she said, and his eyes widened, understanding slowly dawning in him.

"And in all my years of knowing her, I have never seen her more all in than she is with you. So, perhaps it's not that you pushed too hard, maybe you weren't pushing at all, really. To the point where she felt you weren't as invested as she was."

A mixture of horror and hope crashed into his gut, and for a moment, he was fairly certain he'd forgotten how to breathe.

"You at least have to tell her how you feel, Mamoru-san. If you don't-"

"I love her," he interrupted, blinking after he heard his own words. Words he'd never spoken aloud before. Words he hadn't dared to hope might someday be returned.

A full smile bloomed on Makoto's face. "Then why are you standing here telling me that?"

oOo

He was tired. Beyond tired. And he had pulled multiple forty-eight hour shifts during his residency days. It took a lot for him to say he was tired.

But this was a brutal combination. This cocktail of emotional distress and actual alcohol had taken more out of him than he imagined it could.

Emotions could be a real bitch.

And it wasn't as if he knew when his torture would end. He'd spent enough nights with Usagi to know how difficult it was to convince her to get out of bed. The odds of her booking a train this early were slim to none.

He had no doubt he'd likely be there well into the afternoon, or if he'd even manage to find her when she did inevitably show up. Kyoto station was large, the shinkansen platform seemed endless, going on and on in both directions as he sat in the exact middle, figuring it would give him his best shot at spotting her.

The fact that he'd met her on the earliest train out of Osaka gave him something to hold onto at least, as he scanned the latest group of passengers that were making their way to the platform.

Every time he heard a new arrival announced, he'd jump up, his towering height finally an advantage in a country where small statures reigned.

The little glimmer of hope faded just a bit every time he didn't see those tell-tale blonde buns on the top of anyone's head, and he would pace for a few minutes before settling again on his bench to wait for the next announcement.

His body was screaming at him for sleep, but the fear in his gut kept his eyes open. He couldn't afford to let himself slip. Not now. Not when there was so much at stake.

When his eyes did threaten to close, he allowed the self-loathing to start.

This wasn't unusual for him, afterall. He'd been a master of beating himself up internally since he was a child in the orphanage. If he hadn't been with his parents that day, maybe the would still be alive. Maybe if he was a little smarter, a little kinder, a little more anything he could make friends. Be someone.

But it had never been quite this intense, if he was perfectly honest. He'd never had so much to lose.

Mamoru had always relied on himself. He'd had to. What other choice was there? But when Usagi had entered his life, everything changed. He relied on her. Confided in her. Let her carry around some of his burdens, because she was willing and able, and he did the same for her.

The moment he'd known for certain he never wanted to know a day without her had been so early on, it frightened him, but really he'd known since the very first day. It had just taken him a while to admit it to himself, emotionally stunted person that he was.

It had been on his second visit to Tokyo when she was curled against his chest in his hotel room and confessed she was worried her parents weren't proud of her, that her successes were somehow less than that of her brother because they weren't gained in the traditional sense.

He'd held her, then, listened to her pour out her fears, and did his best to assure her she was enough, would always be enough. But he wasn't good with words, had never been, so he hoped his feelings would translate through touch, while he kissed her long and deep.

What Mamoru hadn't realized was that while his feelings of never wanting to let her go solidified into something more real than he'd ever experienced in his life, he was also laying the seeds of doubt that had led them to that very moment. The moment he found himself sitting in a train station in Kyoto, still dressed in a tux from the night before, hoping against hope he could still make it right somehow.

All because he sucked with words. All because he'd been afraid she'd run, when he should have trusted that what they had was lasting and meaningful and real.

He did allow his eyes to close then, just for a moment, while he leaned his head back and sighed in frustration. Frustration at the world, the situation, and mostly himself.

"Mamo...ru?"

His eyes ripped open.

oOo

"So, was your girlfriend upset that you had to go away for the weekend?" she asked that first morning on the train, and his eyes grew wide while she hastily looked away from him and down at her hands.

Was she...trying to figure out if he was single?

"Well, unless my cat counts as my girlfriend, then, no, I don't think so," he replied, unable to keep the unabashed hope out of his voice.

From the moment he saw this girl sitting next to his assigned seat, he'd felt an almost irrational need to tease her, to know her, to be with her forever and ever and…

Christ, he needed to get a handle on himself.

Once he got off this train, he'd never see her again.

He managed to talk lightly with her about his cat, thoroughly enjoying the way her eyes lit up as she scrolled through images of Luna on his cellphone, until he finally had the courage to ask, though he knew the answer wouldn't matter in the slightest once the Hikari 27 rolled into Shinagawa.

"And was your boyfriend upset?" he asked.

Usagi looked adorably confused at his question, and hope bloomed in his chest.

"That you were away? Assuming you're heading back home to Tokyo?" he continued.

He delighted in the blush that graced her cheeks. "I don't have a boyfriend," she said finally. "But yes, I am heading back home."

Relief he knew he had no right to feel relaxed his shoulders, and for a moment, he let himself keep dreaming.

oOo

He jumped to his feet, unsure if she was really there or simply a product of his imagination.

But the confusion and hurt in her eyes was very real.

"Usako-"

She flinched, and his mouth snapped shut. "Don't call me that."

He held up his hands, afraid she'd bolt if he made one more mistake. "U-usagi, I'm so sorry, I.."

"What are you doing here?" she asked, her arms closing tighter around a stuffed, pink rabbit.

Mamoru told the truth in its simplest form. "I needed to talk to you."

She scoffed, and looked away from him. "What's there left to talk about?" Anger seemed to radiate off her in waves. It didn't feel right, not coming from her and he was desperate with the need to fix it.

Words, so many of them, threatened to break free from his mouth. He had stifled them for too long, refusing to give a voice to how he felt and what he wanted. And now, there was only this one chance to choose the right ones. This one chance to make it right.

"Please, Usagi." He took a step towards her, what little confidence he had left shriveled when she moved back. "I just need to tell you-"

An announcement overhead had her looking down to the ticket in her hand. She finally looked back to him, blue eyes cold and tear filled. "You have three minutes."

He had to remind himself to breathe, which considering everything he knew about the brain should have made him worry. But all he could focus on was her and everything he had to lose.

Mamoru finally let the words loose.

"I'm terrible at emotions. At letting myself feel and love, even though it's all I've ever wanted. Ever since that day I woke up in the hospital and didn't even know my own name. Ever since I left the orphanage and started university and became a doctor. I only ever wanted to be loved."

Her eyes were glued to him, and he held her gaze.

"But I didn't know how. I didn't have an example, and everyone always gave up when I didn't fit whatever mold they wanted me to be in. I'm a mess, Usagi," she gave a watery laugh that gave him more hope than he felt he had the right to. "I'm moody, and sarcastic. I work too much and I don't know how to set boundaries between my job and home. I don't share how I feel, and I assume other people will just know."

He paused and ran a hand through his undoubtedly unkempt hair. "I gave up on the idea that I would find what I was looking for. Until that day on the train. Until that day some weird, loud, gorgeous woman took a picture of me and helped me get ink off of my hands."

"Mamoru-"

"I assumed you knew. I took for granted that you didn't need to be told how I felt about you. Of course you didn't know. How could you? I-"

"And how do you feel?" she asked in the quietest voice he'd ever heard from her, nearly drowned out from the station chaos around them.

"I love you."

This wasn't how he imagined he would tell someone he loved them. In the middle of a train station during morning rush hour. Frankly, he never allowed himself to believe he would have the option to tell someone he loved them.

And because of his own, stunted ability to express himself, this might be the only time he ever got to tell her.

It should have been difficult for him to say. He should have struggled to get the words out. But it wasn't, and he didn't, and if his time hadn't run out, he would have been scared to death by it.

As it stood, Mamoru only felt relief.

He watched her silently, still afraid she'd bolt if he made one wrong move. Her eyes were wide, and her jaw hung slack in the shock of those three words that held the weight of the world under their meaning.

"You love me?"

"Yes," he breathed.

Her brow furrowed instantly, her own thoughts and disbeliefs catching up to her. "But you called me your friend. You never said anything that made me think-"

"I'm an idiot, Usagi," he confessed, though he felt it was painfully obvious at this point. "You're not my friend. You never were. You've always been so much more."

Her face had softened slightly, but she still stood stiff, so he kept on. "This was never casual to me. There was never a day that went by that I didn't think about you. Or wish that I was with you. You make me feel so much I can't breathe sometimes. I'm so sorry I never told you. I went to a seminar on bladder cancer just for an excuse to see you-"

"-you w-what?"

The announcement for the six thirty-six train rang out around them.

"-I love you, Usagi. Usako. Please." He stepped towards her again, celebrating a quiet victory when she didn't move away.

A tentative hand reached towards her cheek, and her eyes fluttered closed at his touch. "Please, tell me it's not too late."

oOo

He couldn't help but smile at her as they exited Shibuya Station on that first night all those months ago. He pulled out his phone, immediately shooting off a text to his cat sitter, praying to any god who would listen that his split second decision to stay an extra day would pay off.

Would you be able to watch Luna for an extra day? Something really important has come up.

oOo

AN: Don't hate me, too much, ya'll. There is an epilogue. It's already planned out. It won't take long. You'll be ok. Breathe.

This story has been a huge labor of love, and I'm eternally grateful to all of you who have continually asked and been excited for any scrap of news about updates. I hope it didn't disappoint.

Go show Flora some love on her day!

A comment a day keeps the imposter syndrome away. Kudos are love. Stay safe out there 3