Waking up snug in her bed, comforter pulled up to her neck and the sunlight streaming in through her window, Usagi almost thought that it had all been nothing more than a terrible dream, somehow worse than her normal nightmares of late, and she had rolled over in revulsion, burying her face in her pillow, only to feel the sudden onslaught of aches and pains from the encounter with the man on the streets …yesterday? Yes, it must have been yesterday, for she wouldn't have been able to sleep through a whole day and because school was still in session her mother wouldn't let her …wouldn't …school …uh oh. Loosing a patented Usagi scream, she shot up straight in her bed, blankets becoming tangled around her feet and wailed to the world at the top of her lungs,
"Momma, Luna, why didn't you wake me? Oh, I'm going to be so late!" She pulled on clothes in a flurry, adding a uniform sweater as she caught sight of the discolorations left on her arms from the man's hand and slipped quietly into the bathroom, giving herself a quick once over, touching the faint bruised scratch on her face from where the man had slapped her. A shudder ran through her and she stepped back into her room numbly, a disinterested glance at her bedside clock revealing that she was actually a half hour early in waking. Blinking absently, Usagi sat down on her bed and grabbed a stuffed bunny from where it had been stuffed between her desk and the wall, holding it tight to her chest as she shook with remembered fear. Tears threatened, but she knew that she couldn't afford to have her face look any worse than it already did if she wanted to pull off hiding this incident from everyone.
She was sure that nothing good could come of telling anyone …she wasn't sure how her mother would react, and she definitely didn't want her father to know …not just yet anyway, they would smother her with protection and she would never be able to dash off to save the youma victim of the day – or night as the case often was – and she wouldn't be able to be the happy, carefree girl she had once been …she closed her eyes and whimpered softly. Could she ever go back and be that same cheery girl so full of youthful energy and bolstered by high spirits? She wasn't sure, but it hurt to think of much just then.
Moaning softly, she lifted a hand to her head and rubbed the lump at the back where she had hit it against the wall. A headache was coming on strong and it wouldn't be a nice one. With a sigh, she forced herself to her feet and moved down the hallway slowly, before realizing that such peculiar behavior would attract unwanted attention. For some reason, her lips wouldn't form a giddy smile, so she settled for the one that looked as though she was still asleep and yawned exaggeratedly as she hopped down the stairs and into the downstairs bathroom where the medicine and first-aid kit was kept. Swallowing two Tylenol with a gulp of water, she again inspected her face and nibbled on her lower lip. The mark on her face was obvious, but at least it didn't look too much like someone had struck her …a little bit of makeup and no one would be able to tell the difference, or so she could hope.
From the kitchen came a clatter of noise and the soft humming of her mother, Tsukino Ikuko. "Usagi-chan, is that you?" She called out merrily.
"Uh …umm, yeah mom!" Usagi called back, gulping nervously. "Hey, momma, can you help me?"
The bustle in the kitchen wound down and Ikuko's voice sounded clearer. "Sure, sweetie, where are you?"
"The bathroom, momma …" Usagi took a deep breath and smiled wanly as her mother knocked lightly on the door and stepped inside.
"Oh, baby, what happened? Are you okay?" Ikuko asked in a motherly demand, one soft hand lightly grazing her daughter's cheek.
"Hai, momma …just a typical klutz attack …you know me …umm, I was wondering though …since this is kind of, well, glaring, can I try to hide it with makeup?"
Ikuko gazed at her for a moment and smiled slowly, almost sadly. "Of course, sweetie …come on, I'll fix you right up, okay?"
"Arigato, momma," Usagi half-whispered as she trailed after her mother down the hall.
* * *
Ms. Haruna sighed heavily as her gaze fell upon the clock and she stood from her desk to wake the young woman sleeping fitfully in her desk. Tsukino Usagi had fallen asleep sometime during the middle of the last hour and the rest of the students had already filed out and Ms. Haruna hadn't had the heart to wake the girl for the session of detention. She had a feeling that Usagi was getting sick, for she was uncommonly quiet and hadn't been disruptive in the past few days. It was early winter and so cold season was in full swing, but it seemed as though the golden-haired, odangoed girl had been struck particularly hard. Ms. Haruna had watched her move slowly down the hall between classes, head bowed and with her briefcase pulled up against her chest in an unconscious gesture of vulnerability.
Nibbling on her lower lip, Ms. Haruna gently shook the slumbering girl and frowned. Usagi was warmer than she should have been, probably from fever and her face was flushed, her breathing almost labored. "Usagi-san, wake up, school is over and so is detention," She sighed again and shook her head. "Usagi, wake up!"
Groaning softly, Usagi opened tired eyes glazed slightly with sleep. She was trembling slightly as she pushed herself up in her seat. "Hmm, Miss H? Oh! Gomen nasai, Ms. Haruna, I didn't mean to sleep! I promise I'll make up for it in detention!"
Ms. Haruna smiled slightly. "Detention has come and gone, Usagi. Run along home and get some rest, you're sick as a dog. If I see you in here for class tomorrow, I am going to send you straight home, is that understood? Get home and get to bed, I want to see a bright and chipper and happy Usagi, not a sick one."
Usagi smiled weakly in gratitude. "Arigato, Ms. Haruna-kun, I'll do just that. Ja ne!" And she gathered up her items and left the building. Ms. Haruna glanced outside at Usagi's receding form and repressed another sigh. Sometimes she got so worried for her students, but though she cared for them all, none were as special to her as Usagi and she really didn't want the girl to have to walk all the way home, but she had a faculty meeting to attend with the administration and a thousand other little chores to do before she could call it a night and head home to grade papers and maybe, if she was lucky, have some time to spend with her fiancée.
* * *
Mamoru entered the Crown Fruit Parlor and Arcade in a troubled mood, cursing beneath his breath when his gaze fell on a familiar odangoed head in a booth, a blue-haired girl, Mizuno Ami if he wasn't mistaken, sitting beside her. He wasn't sure why, but he felt a sense of betrayal that Usagi was sitting there with her friend, as if she should have been cooped up at home or spending the day with him instead, and he came down on himself harshly for thinking like that. The poor girl had almost been raped yesterday, raped! She deserved every bit of happiness she could get and then some, so he fell back on the tried and true method of gentle teasing to get her attention, and hopefully to see how she was dealing with everything, hopefully to illicit a real Usagi response.
"Hey, Odango Atama!" He called out.
For a fleeting moment, Mamoru's hopes lifted as Usagi shot to her feet, righteous rage blazing in her deep cerulean eyes. But then her eyes clouded and she crumpled …only to have his strong arms fold around her, keeping her more or less upright when she had no support of her own. The briefest of smiles danced across her face as she breathed a word of thanks and rested quietly in his secure embrace. Her head was bowed to him, part of her flawless face nestled against his dark crimson sweater as her small hands clung weakly to him, as though she had no more strength to call upon.
Ami was suddenly there, dark blue eyes fathoms deeper with worry. "Usagi-chan? Are you sick? Is something the matter?" She demanded instantly, her tone dangerously soft.
Usagi, practically butter in Mamoru's arms, turned her face to regard her blue-haired friend. "Iie, I am fine, Ami. I think perhaps I stood up too fast." She pasted on a smile of reassurance. "Just a dizzy spell …I'm fine now." She clarified. Mamoru could feel her trembling. "Could we go shopping another time?"
While Ami didn't look as though she entirely believed her golden-haired friend, she thankfully offered no protest. "The holidays are still sometime away, your health is more important than a few gifts. You're pale, Usagi, you should go home and rest." It was an order and Ami's commanding voice brooked no argument.
"I can give her a ride home, Ami-san," Mamoru offered, the delight in having Usagi in his arms faded against the knowledge that she wasn't herself. Her complexion had indeed turned an ashen pallor and Mamoru saw dark circles beneath her eyes masked by makeup, he did not miss the tremor that ran through her either. Usagi closed her eyes and allowed a bright grin to blossom upon her face as Ami's expression turned thoughtful.
"Arigato, Chiba-san," Ami said. "I will go and meet up with the others, Usagi. I will let them know that you will not be joining us." She smiled thinly. "Maybe now we can purchase your gifts, ne?"
Usagi nodded against his chest. "Arigato," She whispered, shivering.
"I will make sure she gets home, Ami-san," Mamoru certified. "And please, call me Mamoru, I wouldn't want a friend stumbling over polite speech."
She smiled uncertainly again and pulled a pen from her school bag and stole a napkin from the booth and quickly jotted something down. "Her address, Chi …Mamoru. Arigato," She turned her attention to Usagi again. "I will call later on. Eat something and try to sleep. You cannot fall ill over break, Usa-baka," Ami admonished lightly. Usagi laughed and managed to stay standing, relying mostly on Mamoru, before sinking weakly into his arms after Ami left.
Mamoru's brow furrowed as he eased her into a booth and then scooped her into his arms, one hand beneath her knees and the other at her back. Usagi seemed only remotely aware of the change in her position, her head lolling to rest against his chest as she gave up on the battle to keep her eyes open and within moments, she was asleep with her cheek pressed against his chest, fever riddling her dreams like worms to a rotting apple, seducing her mind into nightmares.
* * *
Chiba Mamoru glanced at the sleeping girl in his car from the corner of his eye as he drove, noting with deep concern at how she appeared to be locked within a bad dream. She was flushed in the face and her forehead had been burning to the touch, her azure eyes foggy and dazed. Ami hadn't needed to give him directions – though she could hardly know that - since he had carried Usagi home just the previous day, but apparently she didn't remember that. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. There was a faint discoloration on her cheek and she was wearing a Juuban school sweater instead of the normal sailor-like top, although, considering the season and the weather, that could have been more for common sense than anything else.
Had she forgotten everything that had happened? Had she forgotten the attack? He was sure that he'd never be able to, not in all his days. Instead of hopping on his bike to go home, he had gone after Usagi, still a bit concerned about her behavior, and he'd arrived just as a strange man had thrown her against the wall of a building. Recognizing the dazed horror on her face and reacting as well to a burst of painful fear along his link, he had allowed his rationality and sanity to slip away as he had forcefully yanked the filthy man from his Usagi and proceeded to offer some semblance of justice for what the man had intended to do to Usagi, and for what he had done.
When he had picked her up, he wasn't sure if he recognized her and he couldn't tell if the wetness on her cheeks was rain or tears or both. Mentally going over the route he walked in the morning and the direction Usagi ran from, he had headed off towards her home and chose the right house on a lucky guess. A young boy had answered the door and very nearly attacked him when he realized whom Mamoru was carrying in his arms. Her brother, Shingo, had led him to her room where he had lain her down and gently brushed the wet hair from her face, wanting to do so much for her, but unable to do more than cover her up.
Shingo had informed him that their father was at work and their mother shopping, and that he would have his mother look in on Usagi as soon as she was home, offering as well to call over Mamoru's house if and when Usagi woke up. Obviously she had slept through the night and Mamoru wasn't sure what explanation she had given her family to tell away the bruises, but it was clear that her exposure to the poor weather had given her a nasty cold. Poor, poor Usagi, it seemed as though nothing was going right for her. This would be the second time in as many days that he would bring Usagi home, unconscious and unwell.