Welcome back to UsaMamo Week 2022!
This story is the first of my two original contributions for UsaMamo Week 2022.

I hope you enjoy!
Please let me know what you think

UsaMamo Week 2022
Day 1: Pearl/"Here, it reminded me of you."

Day 2: Lost & Found/Book
Title: Finders Keepers
Summary: Mamoru lost something that doesn't belong to him, and he wants it back.

Day 3: Emotion/"But why me?"

Tapping his foot on the linoleum, Mamoru threw a glance to the manager's office door for about the thousandth time since he dragged Motoki back here.

"That really isn't helping as much as you think it is," Motoki grumbled. "Why are your feet so damn loud? What kind of shoes are those, anyway?"

Twitching fingers rubbed Mamoru's forehead. "Will you just hurry up?"

Motoki muttered something in response, but it was lost within the box he'd been digging through the last five minutes.

"What was that?" Mamoru asked with a roll of his eyes.

"I said-" Motoki's green eyes glared daggers, his voice loud and grating, "-'would it have killed you to say 'please?'"

"Fine," Mamoru sighed. "Will you please hurry up?"

Motoki sat back on his heels so he could better scowl up at his very aggravating friend. "Dude, what is your rush? You have somewhere you need to be? You asked me to check back here for you."

"No!" was Mamoru's petulant response. "It's…" He cleared his throat and dropped his eyes to the floor. "It's just, Usa's going to be here soon…"

"And?" an exasperated Motoki prompted when Mamoru didn't elaborate.

Mamoru ran a hand through his hair. "I just want to find it before she gets here, that's all." After clearing his throat again, he finally returned Motoki's gaze. "Don't you think it would be easier to pull the stuff out of the box instead of just pushing it around?"

Annoyance pinched Motoki's features. "Excuse me, do I tell you how to do your job?"

An eyebrow quirked up. "This-" Mamoru gestured towards the box "-is your job?"

Motoki rolled his eyes and sighed again. "As a manager of this establishment, yes, it is my job to look through the Lost and Found boxes. It isn't my fault people can't keep track of their shit. Just like a certain someone, who shall remain tall, broody, and annoying.

"Seriously, Mamoru-kun," Motoki said after Mamoru rolled his eyes for the umpteenth time, "You keep doing that, they're gonna roll right out of your head."

Which only prompted another eye roll. "That isn't how anatomy works."

"Oh yea? You keep that up, we'll just see who's right."

Mamoru shrugged. "Fair enough, but you do know if that were to happen here, you'd have to clean it up, right?"

Watching the understanding dawn so very slowly over Motoki's features - the widening of his eyes, the wrinkling of his nose as his mouth fell open, followed by the full body recoil - improved Mamoru's mood considerably.

"You're disgusting," Motoki grumbled.

"Just look in the damn box," Mamoru chuckled.

As Motoki got back to work, mumbling and grumbling under his breath, Mamoru cast another glance towards the door. He hadn't sensed her yet, so maybe he still had-

"Hey!" Motoki's voice interrupted. "Did you say this thing was pink? With a red border?"

Mamoru's hand lifted to the back of his neck. "Uh, yea."

"Found it!" Lifting his hand in triumph, Motoki turned towards Mamoru, a large grin brightening his face. "Wouldn't ya know it? It's always in the last box you check."

After holding his hand out to the very relieved Mamoru, Motoki reconsidered and pulled his hand back at the very last moment. And he couldn't lie, a small part of him very much enjoyed the flash of anger in Mamoru's usually very composed ocean blue eyes. "You wanna tell me why we had to find this before Usagi-chan arrived?"

Mamoru's face darkened.
He didn't have time for this!

Unfortunately, in his aggravation, he'd totally forgotten Motoki has developed an immunity to his intense glares.

Damn.

"Nope," he retorted, holding out his hand. "Would you mind? I'd like it back."

"Now, hold on," Motoki started. "How can I actually be certain this is yours? Sometimes people like to just take things from lost and found boxes, you know. Especially stuff like this. Creeps mostly," he added, his eyes looking Mamoru up and down with mock suspicion, which had Mamoru rolling his eyes again.

"Besides, I don't see your name on it anywhe- wait…"

Mamoru panicked when Motoki brought his hand closer to his face, his eyes crossing as he read the embroidered print he just spotted. "Hey! This isn't yours! It's-"

"Mamo-chan! Toki-chan!"

Motoki's high-pitched shriek greeted Usagi when she burst into the room with her trademark smile and too loud call. "Unazuki-chan said I could find you both back… here…"

Catching their startled expressions, the faint blush across Mamoru's face, and Motoki clutching at his chest, his fingers clawing into the fabric of his work shirt, Usagi's brow furrowed with the tilt of her head. "What's going on?"

"Nothing-" Motoki cleared his throat against the worst break in his voice since Junior High. "Nothing," he repeated normally, "I was just helping Mamoru-kun find something."

"Oh?" With both eyebrows raised since she lacked the skill to raise just one, Usagi looked to her boyfriend, whose blush deepened to a darker shade of red. "Mamo-chan? What were you looking for?"

Motoki lifted a hand to his ear. "Oh, did you hear that? I think Unazuki-chan's calling me."

Ignoring Mamoru's betrayed glare, Motoki all but hurled the item at him. "Here you go, Mamoru-kun!" Then to Usagi as he passed, "See ya on the floor, Usagi-chan!"

The office door slammed shut behind him, leaving Mamoru and Usagi in awkward silence.

"Hey, Usako," Mamoru finally greeted, trying yet failing to sound nonchalant. "How was school?"

"It was fine." Her narrowed eyes were searching. "I passed my history test but was kept late because I failed my English test."

He tried not to laugh; he really did. While Usagi has been working so hard on her English, it was still proving to be a worthy adversary. But he was so uncomfortable, and it was a failed English test which brought them together in the first place, so his laugh came out as a fond snort/chuckle hybrid.

Usagi, however, was not amused.

"What's going on, Mamo-chan?" She was glaring at him, her arms crossed over her chest. "What were you looking for? Why are you and Toki-chan both acting so weird?"

Too embarrassed to respond, Mamoru shoved his hand into the pocket of his khaki pants and half turned away, his face on fire from his intense blush.

After a moment, Usagi stepped up beside him and interlaced her fingers with his free hand, giving it a gentle squeeze before resting her head against his arm.

And then she waited.

Only when he finally squeezed back did she speak.

"Mamo-chan," she murmured, "what's going on? And why do you feel like you have to hide whatever it is from me?"

Shifting his eyes over to Usagi, Mamoru found her head down, several strands of her long blond hair out of place, probably from her run from school to meet him at Crown. As if sensing his gaze, her face finally lifted to his, but it was slow, like she was afraid she'd scare him off if she made any sudden movements.

She was hurt by his cagey silence, that much was clear. But she was also apprehensive. There was the bite of her lip, the dimmed brightness of her eyes.

And who could blame her?

Their relationship was still so new, beginning with playful teases, flustered responses, and a confusingly strong chemistry which would only later be explained by a tragic love from a former life, but so rife with conflict. Though most of that conflict came from external forces like evil queens and floating phantoms, the two were still learning how to best relate to and engage with each other as a couple, which was made all the more difficult by their future child literally falling on them out of the sky.

The only time they experienced anything bearing even a slight resemblance to normalcy was during the short window between their victory over the Dark Kingdom and the arrival of the Black Moon Clan.

And with their arrival, everything changed.

Usagi, still anxious and wary from being forced to live with this mysterious young girl who hypnotized Usagi's family into thinking she was a long-lost cousin there for an extended visit, struggled from the very beginning of this war, especially as her senshi were abducted one at a time.

Mamoru, thinking he was helping, wordlessly shifted his focus and support to protecting Chibi-Usa so Usagi could concentrate on her senshi duties.

Unfortunately, this left Usagi feeling neglected but also jealous of the child receiving the physical and emotional support she herself so desperately needed. But instead of telling him or her remaining senshi how she felt, Usagi bottled it up, which eventually led to her acting out in ways he knew she still regretted.

But he never told her of his intentions, he failed to set any boundaries, and his distraction made him miss the signs of the impending emotional outburst. By the time he realized anything was amiss between himself and Usagi, it was far too late.

Afterwards, they promised each other to work harder on their communication, yet here he was, failing her all over again.

With a soft sigh, Mamoru finally pulled his hand from his pocket.

Usagi clearly didn't understand what she was looking at, not at first. Recognizing the object in his hand as a ladies handkerchief but not knowing to whom it belonged, she pressed a hand against the pang of jealousy in her chest and curled her fingers into the fabric of her blouse. But then she looked closer, and that jealousy immediately evaporated with a loud gasp and the widening of her eyes.

"Wha- that's my handkerchief! I lost that one ages ago! Mamo-chan…" Usagi carefully removed it from his hand before running her finger over the worn bunny emoji that was her signature. "How long have you had this?"

A hand lifted to the back of his neck. "Since you dropped it…" He swallowed, his throat suddenly very dry, "at the Masquerade."

Her stunned eyes flew to his. "Princess D's ball?" At his slow nod, she stared back down at the handkerchief in disbelief. "But I was in disguise then, and we didn't know yet-"

Her focus turned inward. "That means you knew I was Sailor Moon when… Mamo-chan…" Her confused blue eyes lifted to his. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"I didn't know how!" Running his hand through his hair, he stepped away to pace, though mourned the loss of her warmth. "Your cat didn't trust me, and I liked you so didn't want you to think I was a creep… What was I supposed to say? 'Here, you dropped this at the masquerade neither of us were invited to but both attended anyway?"

Her delighted giggle brought his attention back to her. "You liked me all the way back then?"

The tension lifting, his mouth pulled up into a fond smile. "It wasn't obvious?"

"No!" she laughed. "You were always making fun of me! My hair, my grades-"

Mamoru scoffed. "I never once made fun of your hair."

"Yes, you did!" she pouted, her hands falling to her hips. "You used to call me 'Odango Atama. You still do, sometimes."

"Usako." His fingers brushed into her hair when he returned to her side, turning her cheeks a delicate shade of pink. "I love your hair," he murmured. "I would never make fun of it. If anything, 'Odango Atama' is an endearment.'"

Her laugh came out as a snorted giggle. "Is it?"

"Yes," he breathed, enjoying her shiver when his fingernails scraped against her scalp, "I would certainly never call anyone else 'Odango Atama.'"

"Other than Chibi-Usa, who else wears this style?" Her eyes narrowed up at him but slipped closed when Mamoru placed a lingering kiss to the top of her head.

"Mamo–chan," she murmured after a moment, "do you love my hair more than you love me?"

Mamoru considered her question for a moment. "I'm not sure. Maybe."

Which promptly earned him a playful slap to his upper arm.

"Mamo-chan!" she laughed.

Cupping her face, he lowered his head and kissed her, soft and slow. Though it was chaste, she melted against him, curling her fingers into the lapel of his blazer.

"I'm just curious," she asked against his lips after he broke away. "Why didn't you ever give it back? After we both knew, I mean?"

"I was going to…" he murmured, caressing her cheek with his thumb. "We were going to trade in the park, remember? My watch for your handkerchief? But that was the night…"

She frowned when he trailed off, but he didn't see it, his mind now lost within the memory of that night on Tokyo Tower; the night he was taken from her; in which he began his transformation into the brainwashed prince ordered to kill his beloved princess.

He didn't like to think about that night.

Both of her hands lifted to his face. "Mamo-chan," she whispered, "I'm OK. You're OK. We're both safe."

Closing his eyes, he took a couple of slow, deep breaths and focused on the feel of her warmth and love against his skin and the softness of the familiar handkerchief now trapped between one of her hands and his cheek. After as fast as he had left, he was back, earning a sweet smile when his eyes returned to hers.

He threaded his fingers with her free hand before she could pull it away and kissed the palm before continuing. "Well, after that, it was too awkward to give it back, and, if I'm honest, I didn't really want to."

"No?" Her face brightened.

Mirroring her smile, he pressed a hand to the small of her back to push her closer. "No. Your handkerchief became this little part of you I could carry around with me, something I could hold onto when I needed grounding, especially if overwhelmed by a bad memory."

His gaze fell to the pink handkerchief, and hers followed. "It got me through a lot, actually," he murmured. "I panicked when I realized I lost it."

"What happened?"

"The day Mako-chan was attacked, I was here doing my homework while waiting for you, and I felt your transformation," he said, speaking more to the handkerchief than to her. "It must have fallen out of my pocket in my rush to pack up and get to her apartment."

His smile fell when his gaze returned to her, and her heart broke with it. "I'm sorry I didn't make it in time," he whispered with a squeeze of her hand.

Usagi's features softened with her sigh. "So, you've been without it all this time? Even when we were in the future and…"

Ice gripped his heart when she trailed off, his mind following hers to the same pit of hell that was the memory of her capture and abduction to another planet by a man who couldn't keep his hands to himself. Sliding a hand into her hair and holding her close, Mamoru murmured loving affirmations and platitudes meant to reassure them both.

She eventually mumbled something back, but it was lost within her quiet cries against his chest.

"I'm sorry, Usako, what did you say?"

"You should keep it, Mamo-chan," she repeated when she pulled away. Despite her tears, she was now smiling, warm and bright, and she carefully placed the handkerchief into his hand. "It's yours now."

Relief flooded through him as he held the handkerchief for the first time in weeks. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice trembling.

"Mamo-chan," she breathed, wrapping her hand into his tie and giving it a gentle tug. Her shining blue eyes shifted between his.

Sometimes, verbal communication is really overrated.

The hand holding his handkerchief pressed to the small of her back, and the other returned to the softness of her hair at the nape of her neck.

But just as their lips touched, the office door flew open, startling them apart.

"Can you believe this, Unazuki-chan?" Motoki yelled to his out-of-view sister. "I take time out of my busy day to help Mamoru-kun find something so incredibly important, and how does he repay me? By making out with his girlfriend in the manager's office! Some friend he is."

Mamoru threw Motoki the fiercest glare in his arsenal, but the grinning Motoki was unphased. A quick slide of his eyes over to Usagi and her embarrassed flush had him stuffing the handkerchief into his pocket and bending over to pick up their discarded bags from the floor. Then he laced his fingers with hers and all but dragged her to the door, pushing past Motoki and out onto the floor.

"Well, now, hold on," Motoki started, frowning. "You aren't actually leaving? I thought you two were going to have dinner here?"

"Sorry Motoki-kun," Mamoru called over his shoulder. "Something came up! Thanks so much for your help today!"

Motoki crossed his arms with a huff, shaking his head when the two started running in the direction of Mamoru's apartment the instant they were outside.