The Same Coin

by MissAndrony

R breakup--Esmeraude's new plan was foolproof before Mamoru intervened. But could the results of that battle still destroy Mamoru and Usagi?

1. Part I

¡Hóla, minna-san! I'm really excited about this story, even if
it is an R-season breakup fic (I can hear the groaning now). I decided
to warn people ahead of time so I can also say that I swear on my life
this is NOT an ordinary R-season fic! It has a twist, I swear (A twist,
you say? Who cares?).

Warning: may contain some disturbing scenes, I don't really know, I
just write them. I rate it PG-13, 15 for the sensitive types (you know,
Cancers and such). I can't really give it an R...although there are quite
a few somewhat off-color jokes (nothing you wouldn't probably see on, say,
Ally McBeal or, well, Buffy)

Disclaimer #1: Do I really have to do this? Obviously, Sailormoon does
not belong to me, or I would be rich and famous and considered to have talent.
And if you still can't believe that, send me money so I can buy it from Naoko-
sensei. Better yet, just send me money. You're donating it to a good
cause (my pocketbook)! Totally tax-deductible! What's that? Of COURSE you
can send me your parents' money! You didn't even have to ask!

Disclaimer #2: Oh, groan. I hate these. Okay, yeah, I borrowed the
concept from an episode of "Buffy the Vampire Slayer," (I'm not saying which
one, lest I spoil the story) a show to which that I am hopelessly addicted.
Stop laughing...The Chronicle called it "The Best Show You're Not Watching,"
which would be true except...I *do* watch it. And no, no characters from
"Buffy" show up here. Live action and anime? That'd be weird.

But I did put my own spin on it. This isn't word-for-word or anything
like that. I changed several things to fit the plot better.

By the way..."Wanderers" is in the process of being revised and will
hopefully be out soon. Yes, I know the last chapter came out seven months ago.
Yes, I know lots of people have written me wondering when the next chapter will
be out. Yes, I know I haven't responded. I'm really sorry! It's very
encouraging, and I really appreciate it! But it's a really hard story to write...
now that Usa-P can't help me, I'm doing it on my own. I apologize to everyone
who has written me (by the way, where are people reading it? People keep saying
they just read the story, and considering the fact it hasn't come out in months,
I have to admit I'm curious. Ah, well...).

So, I prepared a list of the top ten reasons why it's not done yet:

10. It's Junior Year. My school tortures Juniors.
9. My Chemistry teacher is sadistic. No, I'm not kidding. I wish I were.
8. I was in the musical (if I hear the song "Wells Fargo Wagon" one more
time I'm going to start gnawing into my wrists just to end the torture).
7. It's Junior Year.
6. Y&G.
5. I'm revising the first three chapters for a bunch of really important
reasons that will make the story better later on.
4. It's Junior Year.
3. "McTeague." I nearly gave up hope on literature forever.
2. Usa-P doesn't have time either, so I'm continuing the story on my own.

And the #1 reason why I haven't finish Chapter IV of "Wanderers" is:

1. It's Junior Year (oh yeah, like you couldn't see THAT coming!).

All right...I turned 17 last Sunday...yes, I KNOW that's April Fool's
Day...now let's just hope I can get "Wanderers" out by my 18th birthday
(kidding! I swear! I'm really trying here, people!).

Hmm...maybe I should stop apologizing about my story and let the reader decide!
Remember, Ai likes email very much! You should send her some (please forgive
that, it's one of the voices in my head talking again):
ai_02@yahoo.com

* * * * * * * * *

"Love seldom haunts the breast where learning lies,
And Venus sets ere Mercury can rise."
--Alexander Pope

* * * * * * * * *

Don't fear,
Even though you're at a loss.
I'm numb,
A shell of empty thoughts.
But you glow,
You stretch and pull me out.
Does that trouble you?
Do I trouble you?

Love me, hate me,
Make me live again,
I need you around...
Heal me, hurt me,
Make me live again,
I want you around...

So long,
I never had experienced
This bliss,
So how could I resist?
And I'm fine,
A little light-headed.
Does that worry you?
Didn't mean to worry you...

Love me, hate me,
Make me live again,
I need you around...
Heal me, hurt me,
Make me live again,
I want you around...

And now,
Retreating from the light,
I love it when we fight...
It makes me think
At least you still care.

Give up,
You're not going anywhere.
Moonlight
Illuminates your stare.
And it's great,
Captivating you.
Does that trouble you?
Do I trouble you?

Love me, hate me,
Make me live again,
I need you around...
Heal me, hurt me,
Make me live again,
I want you around...

Make me live again...
Make me live again...
Make me live again.
--"Live Again" by Better than Ezra
(Ai: I love this song! It's so sad...)

* * * * * * * * *

Instinct is the driving force of the world. Darwin's theory of natural
selection, or "survival of the fittest," was the force that drove early hominids
to stand on two legs as well as the one that makes the stock market so
lucrative today.

And an instinct that has driven the Earth for 4.6 billion years is not
erased overnight--or even in the 8,000 years that had passed since the dawn of
civilization, when man learned to adapt the blue planet to his needs, to take
his fate into his own hands. On the cotnrary, It grew stronger as the human
race struggled to impose order upon the world around it.

Women, having suffered 7,000 years of oppression (and spent the next
thousand in a post-apocalyptic stasis), were no exception. The most
successful females throughout history had coldly examined their physical and
mental assets, then used them in a rational, methodical fashion to gain an
advantage in a male-dominated society.

This was quite true of Esmeraude, who had learned early in life that men
think with the faculties below their waist and she was in a prime position to
benefit. Combined with some intelligence, if not any sort of real genius, a
fierce drive, and a total lack of conscience, these 'assets' became a formidable
weapon. It was how she had become the highest-ranked female advisor to
Nemesis's royal court as well as a member of Prince Demando's specially
selected Crystal Tokyo Invasion Council. And if spiteful rivals accused her
of sleeping her way to the top, they also grudgingly admitted she was more than
qualified for the job.

Lately, however, those oh-so-useful attributes seemed to do her little
good. With Rubeus's demise, she had hoped to quickly secure the former
Crystal Tokyo and bring back a certain irritating pink-haired rabbit back to the
Wiseman, at which point Demando would fall hopelessly in love with her and she
would reign supreme as Queen of Crystal Tokyo. For Esmeraude, there was no
higher aspiration.

Unfortunately, the best laid plans of mice and men oft go astray. Her
plan to infuse negative energy into susceptible points of the city had been
repeatedly foiled by the Sailor Senshi and Tuxedo Kamen, who were also
succeeding in hiding the royal brat during the few encounters they'd had. The
Wiseman was growing impatient, which secretly unnerved her some. A few simple
words and Demando would probably toss her back in the gutter.

Demando. Another issue requiring expedient attentions. She was not used to
having her advances repeatedly rejected. Esmeraude despised the cool disdain
Demando treated her with, all while mooning like a lovesick puppy over a woman
who was flat as a two-by-four and, in Esmeraude's humble opinion, had the
intelligence of one. But who could explain love?

So Esmeraude approached her problem with a careful, meticulous thought
process that was getting her absolutely nowhere. She had already decided that
she needed to get rid of Sailormoon; she was the one holding the other four
senshi and Tuxedo Kamen together. The question, though, was how.

And this was where she was hitting a wall. Sailormoon's weaknesses were
laid out to see--her clumsiness, her cowardice, the fact she too possessed the
intelligence of previously said two-by-four--and yet Esmeraude still couldn't
figure out how to capitalize on them. A keen observer, Esmeraude had also
noticed the fracturing between the senshi, Tuxedo Kamen and Sailormoon. Some
kind of love affair gone wrong between the latter two, apparently, and as for
the senshi--well, *she* sure as hell wouldn't have put up with that over-
sensitive bimbo for a leader, either. She always secretly cheered for Mars
whenever the fire senshi decided to rip into the Odango Atama, even if they
*had* just trashed her latest droid. Yet with that, the senshi--even Tuxedo
Kamen--would have defended the girl with their lives. And with this "shield"
effectively in place, there was no way to eliminate the blonde irritation.

What she ought to do was isolate the girl--her alter ego, perhaps? But
this would require an investigation, which would require time, which Esmeraude
certainly did not have. She knew damn well her number would soon be up and her
chance for glory lost forever.

So, today, when she had used her Black Poison Crystal earring to select
her next target point, she had actually taken it a step further, finding three
points of interest rather than her usual one. After examining the strategic
advantages and relative isolation of each one, had selected the worst of the
three, an animal sanctuary, and sent her Black Poison Crystal sculpture there.
It made her look like business was as usual. In reality, she had known the
outcome of the battle before it had even begun.

The best was a little clearing in the heart of Ichinohashi Park, so
secluded that the citizens of Tokyo who frequented the park rarely stumbled
across it. It wasn't too far from the rose gardens, however, which she
suspected drew the senshi, especially a pining Sailor who was still hurting from
her recent problems with Tuxedo Kamen. She had a location, but what was the
plan?

Once again, her mind came back to her need to isolate Sailormoon,
preferably non-transformed. With the inability to use her powers, surely
Sailormoon would fall quickly and easily, and she knew without her the others
would simply be a matter of time, time Demando would surely grant her. But to
do this, she needed her alone...completely helpless...ordinary...weak and
without strength...or hope...

It hit her like a ton of bricks. Esmeraude's lips curled into a slow,
malicious little smile. *This* was good. Absolutely brilliant, and yet so
simple she couldn't understand how it could not have occurred to her sooner. At
the same time, however, the execution was maddeningly complex--very much out of
her realm. That, of course, was where her 'assets' came in.

Humming a cheerful tune to herself, Esmeraude brushed her long, glimmering
green hair, reapplied her deep crimson lips, and powdered her immaculate
porcelain face. She then slipped into something a bit more comfortable, a lacy,
strippy piece of fabric (it was not a garment in any way) bejeweled with the
stones that bore her name. It was a classic, very nearly elegant, one of her
old standbys--almost like a faithful friend. Then, she sauntered down the hall,
assured of her appearance as Lust personified.

It really was a dull, dreary place, Nemesis, she reflected grimly as she
walked. The hall alone looked like it was part of the quintessential mad
scientist's lair: dark, decorated in drab grays and black, illuminated only by
the occasional torch. It was no wonder Demando had tried so hard to bring his
people back to the Earth...

Esmeraude smiled mischievously when she reached her destination. She
leaned up against the door, pressing herself up against it in a very coquettish
fashion, and knocked softly.

"Anyone here?"

"Esmeraude-chan? Is that you?"

She knew that Saffir didn't even look up from his papers. Ever since the
betrayal of the Akayashi sisters, he'd been more withdrawn than usual,
preferring to surround himself in paperwork, the Black Poison Crystal's
stability, and battle stratagem (Ai: NOT 'strategerie'!). Occasionally she
heard him mutter something about Petz, one of Rubeus's former badly dressed
canaries. In Esmeraude's opinion, the man needed to get laid. in her twisted
mind, she was actually doing him a favor. It was really rather kind of her to
think of others for once when making her plans. *Everyone* was benefiting in
this situation!

"Hai, it's me, Saffir-kun," she murmured, a coy smile playing on her lips.

This time, Saffir looked up-and nearly choked on his breath. His eyes
were wide as saucers; his jaw firmly planted on the ground.

"You've been so quiet lately, Saffir-kun," she said smoothly, advancing,
making sure the seductive curve of her hips was accented by her gait and her
chest was as forward as possible. "You work too hard."

Saffir tried to make his mouth work, but wasn't having any luck.
Esmeraude took the opportunity to drop herself into his lap. She pressed
himself against him, making sure he had an abject awareness of every curve. She
could see the drool pooling at the corners of his mouth.

"All work and no play makes Saffir a dull boy," she purred, trailing
kisses down his cheek, aiming for his lips.

He didn't answer.

Esmeraude smiled again and bent over, nibbling very gently on his ear.
"We could do something about that, you know," she whispered to him, her voice
husky and seductive.

She was suddenly aware of a very familiar hardness in a particular part
of him.

Oh yeah, this one was in the bag.

* * * * * * * * *

Two very, very loud hours later (and one very, very consternated
guard answering several complaints from several very, very angry neighbors),
they were both thoroughly satisfied, with clothes thrown every which way and the
top of Saffir's carefully organized desk now lying scattered all over the floor.

"So, Esmeraude-chan, what do you want from me now?"

She pouted, tilting her head down but still looking up at him and sticking
out her lower lip. "Am I really that transparent?" she sulked, crossing her
arms in front of her chest.

"Hai." Saffir grinned. She would've made a pretty picture if he hadn't
known her to be the biggest bitch in the star system. "Not, of course, that I
mind. It's, ah...part of your natural charm?" Among other things, he thought
wickedly.

"Then why didn't you just tell me that two hours ago?" she demanded,
snatching up the remnants of her 'outfit.'

Saffir looked at her as if she had just grown a second head, and Esmeraude
felt rather foolish for even inquiring. After all, she was Nemesis's finest
seductress, and posing such naïve questions was beneath her. It was something
*Sailormoon* would have done.

Ah, well. It was a nice try. She would have to go back to the drawing
board, which didn't thrill her, but at least she had a little fun and performed
a good deed for once in her life. The blackened little block of ice once known
as her heart almost began to thaw at the thought.

"So, what is this all-important demand you have of me, Esmeraude-chan?"

Esmeraude turned slowly around and did a double take. Saffir had the
biggest smile she'd seen on him in weeks--on anyone in weeks on Nemesis, period.
Then again, you rarely found a reason to smile on this hellhole.

Her cold eyes lit up with an icy, almost sadistic fire. "Now you're
talking..." If this was her last shot, she had to make absolutely certain it
worked. And, on the infinitesimal chance it did fail, at least she would go out
with a bang.

* * * * * * * * *

The scent of roses made her eyes water, and her throat choked on the
heavenly perfume.

It was frigid that night, but Usagi didn't really notice. She was always
chilled these days, even when surrounded by a cocoon of blankets, longing for
warmth she could not have. So the cold didn't bother her. And neither did the
roses, despite her tearing eyes and labored breathing. She rather liked having
the excuse to cry, especially since her 'lost love' excuse was wearing very
thin.

Each time his name was brought up, Usagi would feel that horrible tearing
sensation in her heart and her eyes would instantly water-even she was amazed
with the incredible capacities of her tear ducts-and, among friends, she would
usually give it up and bawl as loudly as she pleased. It was melodramatic but
expected by now. And Rei would groan and roll her eyes, and Makoto and Minako
would offer their condolences and comforts, and Ami would sit quietly by,
sympathetic but oh-so-clueless in the realm of love, uncertain of how to
proceed.

Bawling was something her friends could understand. But away from prying
eyes she gave way to a different sort of crying, the soft, broken sobs of a lost
soul, one who had had her heart ripped out of her chest and unceremoniously
stepped on by the person she loved more than anyone on the face of the Earth.
The senshi wouldn't have known what to do about that.

Frankly, she didn't know what to do either.

She hadn't known it was possible to feel like this and still be alive,
with one's heart so thoroughly shattered she could barely feel her own
heartbeat. She didn't sleep, spent entire nights staring up at the ceiling,
trying to piece memories of him together. His smoky scent. The sound of his
voice, like a balm to her agitated nerves. The feel of being in his arms. When
she did sleep, her dreams were of him...telling her to leave him in peace, that
he loved her no longer.

She didn't eat...all she could do these days was cry. Some days, the pain
was so bad she wanted to cry aloud, even if she was in the middle of a class.
Occasionally, she was so nauseated she threw up. Her strength was drained; she
was always sluggish and feeble. In battle she was a mess, and with the new
enemy it gave Mars fuel for the fire. Then Usagi went home, reassured by Mars
of why he could have never possibly wanted her in the first place.

Words blurred and lost meaning as she tried to process what the people
around her said. It seemed only the senshi--maybe her mother and Luna--
could pierce the thick fog of depression circling around her, but even then
were helpless, unable to save her from herself. Unable to save her from him.

Sometimes, she hated herself, because through all this she still loved
him, pursued him with a passion far beyond her fourteen years, and with a few
simple words she would have been back in arms, no questions asked, everything
forgiven. Trying to live life without him was like trying to quit heroin cold
turkey. The pain was so immense it could lead to nowhere but her demise.

This isn't living, Usagi told herself again and again. This isn't what
it means to be alive. Get over him, move on. Live again.

Oh, if but she could! But each time she tried every cell in her body
screamed in pain. Not loving him, it seemed, was a thing far more painful than
this existence-like state, this living death.

This, Usagi realized, was the part of love everyone forgot to mention--
pure destruction. They forgot that love, just like anything else in this world,
has a darker side. There was no one to guide her, and she had no choice but to
stumble blindly in the dark, praying for a light she'd been thoroughly assured
she would never see again.

And it was no wonder her relationship with Chibiusa was so strained!
Usagi didn't know it was possible to be so insanely jealous of a 9-year-old, but
watching him scoop the little girl up and offer her anything she wanted left her
seething. She wanted to be the one in his arms, like that short time before he
realized he didn't care, never really had...

Stop that, her mind cried. She couldn't take that. One fragile,
torturous thread of hope, while feeble and very weak, was the only light at the
end of the tunnel.

She was nearing the end of her rope.

So this weekend was her big chance, a chance to get a way from it all. To
cry alone, to lick her wounds privately, to maybe even start to heal. And then,
she could move on, and live again and--

NO! Her heart screamed. Then again, maybe not heal. But to cope, and to
exist, if not to live.

Her parents had taken Shingo and Chibiusa to an amusement park that had
opened about two hours away from Tokyo. Usagi had wanted to go very badly,
would have given her eyeteeth to get away from Mamoru and the fact her
life was crashing down around her for a few days, but with the new enemy,
knew it would be unwise to risk it.

Luckily, she had known she was due for a phone call about her English
grade from Haruna-sensei for a while. That had been more than enough to get her
in hot water. Her punishment: she had to stay home while the family enjoyed
three days of excitement away from here.

At least Chibiusa was safe.

After this weekend, Usagi vowed, no more cowardice, no more crying.
She'd be strong. And she'd show Mamoru that she wasn't a weak girl.

Tonight, she wanted to revel in the sensation of her soul slowly being
shred into a million pieces.

Tonight, she wanted to feel like she was dying.

* * * * * * * * *

"This is absolutely brilliant!" Saffir declared proudly as he put the
final touches on the machine. "You've really outdone yourself this time,
Esmeraude-chan."

It wasn't a weapon; it was a work of art. The device looked like
something in a museum one's hands itched to run trembling fingers across but
had ropes and alarms and signs screaming 'DO NOT TOUCH' all around it--smooth
crystal, glittering pulses of energy randomly ripping through, mixed in with
some sort of pewter-colored alloy, and a easy, comfortable handling system.
It was all Esmeraude could do not to take the machine and just start shooting
with mad, unparalleled glee. Well, she *did* have a well-developed killer's
instinct...

But the look in Saffir's eye warned her not to touch, despite the fact
they also professed a desire to do the exact same thing. Esmeraude finally
managed to rip her blood-lusty eyes away, hands still aching to touch--or at
very least revel in the pleasure of ripping someone apart.

They had nicknamed their mechanical wonder 'The Splitter,' a very concise
way of summing up its purpose. She was half in love with the damn thing, and
thought it a pity she'd probably have to hand the beautiful machine off to a
droid to avoid arousing suspicion in the Sailors. If she showed up, toting
a very large, very powerful weapon, the senshi would sense a trap.
Unfortunately, they weren't *that* stupid. Still...

"I try," Esmeraude finally replied, beaming with almost motherly
pride. Unable to restrain herself any longer, she gingerly fingered the
cool metal barrel of the device. "But I don't deserve all of the credit.
After all, Saffir-kun, you've done most of the dirty work."

"Hai." Saffir smiled warmly as he fused two wires together. "Wiseman-
sama will infuse this with the power of the Black Poison Crystal and use it to
power the Splitter. It should be ready by tonight, barring unforeseen
circumstances." Saffir's grin widened and his eyes darkened. "Shall we
celebrate our upcoming victory over the Sailor Senshi early, Esmeraude-chan?"

She giggled inanely. "Down, boy! Let's see if this magnificent hunk
of crystal and metal works first."

* * * * * * * * *

25% of Mamoru was aware of the dull ache in his chest that told him
Usagi was crying again. The other 75% was engaged in a paper on the ethics
of human cloning for medical purposes.

In truth, Mamoru did his best to avoid thinking about Usagi. Thinking
inevitably led to feeling. Feeling involved messy emotions such as anger,
fear, guilt, and self-pity, less messy emotions like self-hatred and despair,
and good old-fashioned loneliness and emptiness as the icing on the cake.

During the day, at least, each time his mind veered into dangerous
territory some protective instinct snapped him back like as if he were on a
bungee cord. He handled the situation by ignoring it, hoping it would go
away. Forget he was dying from the inside out and it was his own fault.

Only late at night, usually post-dream and wrapped within the
comforting darkness that protected him like a security blanket, could he not
prevent cold desolation from ruling his heart and torture his psyche. At
that time of night, there were no pretensions, nothing to protect him from the
truth. His mind was free to lead him down whatever hellish road it wished,
threating permanent damage to emotional stability and santiy. Sometimes he
reveled in it, and he was the first to admit he deserved it.

Nightmares were nothing new for Chiba Mamoru. The dreams of Selenity
had been a sole bright spot in the petrifying dreamscape that awaited him
each time he fell asleep. Scientists said dreams were reflections of the
subconscious, spun from thoughts that had occupied the mind during the day,
and feelings that the mind would not allow the heart to feel for the sake of
sanity and self-preservation. In truth, he was afraid to venture a guess
where his dreams really stemmed from. Perhaps there was something else
holding him back, no, he was almost certain of it. There was one pesky
little thought, like a mosquito, he could not banish from his mind: "You
don't do this to someone--to yourself!--for a dream." Didn't know, didn't
want to know what it was; he was afraid, he never liked introspection.
Introspection meant conclusion. He couldn't remember ever liking the
conclusion.

But the dreams kept coming. And so he made a choice. And so he made
the *right* choice. He may have hated himself for doing it, but given the
opportunity to do everything over again, he would not have changed his
decision. Her life was his life, any wound done to her was like one done to
him. Any failing of his that hurt her would hurt him more than it possibly
could her, true pain, beyond the realm of human conception, known only to its
victims. This pain was for forever. And maybe it was selfish, or something
worthy of martyrdom...he didn't know. All Mamoru knew was he could not survive
the blow of losing her for good.

So why did it still feel like he had it all wrong?

* * * * * * * * *

"All right Hitokage," Esmeraude said to the fanged, somewhat serpentine
youma that was surrounded by fog of darkness and had just sprung from the
crystal wedge she had just planted in the ground, "you only get one chance to
do this right. Saffir-kun said the Splitter would be too unstable if it was
infused with any more negative energy. Remember: you MUST hit Sailormoon. If
you don't, anything the Sailors do can compare to what I will do to you."
Probably use the Splitter on her, Hitokage reflected darkly. "Do we have an
understanding?"

"You don't have to be mean about it, Esmeraude-sama." She wasn't a bad
sort, for a droid. Hitokage actually had some semblance of a personality.
Esmeraude had saved her especially for a crucial mission such as this one.
The droid would do her best.

Esmeraude smiled thinly and handed Hitokage the weapon. "Make sure you
have a very clear shot. Oh, and that none of the senshi are too close. Any one
of them would give their life for her, and while it would be all well and good
to have one of the other Sailors out of the picture, that wouldn't really
achieve the objective of destroying the team from its core. Got it?"

"Hai."

"Excellent. Now...run along like a good little youma and possess some
people in the name of the Black Moon or whatever it is youma do."

Hitokage turned slitted amber eyes on her master and raised an eyebrow.
"Go on," Esmeraude ordered, making little shooing motions with her fan.
Hitokage shrugged and "shooed", deciding to find some nice victims whose energy
could feed her wedge of Black Poison Crystal.

* * * * * * * * *

This time, when the uncomfortable tightening in his chest told him
Usagi had transformed, Mamoru did not ignore it. Pulling out a rose, he
transformed and immediately started to join the ensuing battle.

Upon his arrival, he was greeted with the sight of Sailormoon tripping
over herself while trying to dart glowing red projectiles that appeared to be
fangs. Venus was attempting to wrap her love-me chain around the creature so
the odango-haired senshi could get a good shot in. Jupiter was launching one of
her Supreme Thunders, and Mercury was engrossed in the process of analyzing the
creature for weaknesses. Mars was nowhere to be found.

Tuxedo Kamen took one look at Sailormoon and thanked God in Heaven. The
little blonde looked completely drained, and not up to one of Mars's lectures.

Then, he turned to examine the enemy--an oddly beautiful, snake-like demon
with glassy eyes, layers of metallic skin, and twisting snakes in a menagerie of
colors for hair. It was holding what appeared to be some sort of futuristic
firearm--and the weapon looked powerful, judging by the negative energy
radiating from it. However, the youma was not using the weapon, but a set of
glowing fangs, as an attack. He should have noticed there was something
suspicious about that, but Tuxedo Kamen was busy surveying the situation (and
suppressing his irritatingly violent reaction to Sailormoon's nearness) to
pick up that oh-so-minor detail.

Instead, he patiently waited for his moment to enter the battle. It came
up soon enough: one of the fangs whizzed across Sailormoon's thigh, leaving a
jagged gash. The little senshi cried out in pain and fell, clutching her leg.
He felt his heart drop to the ground and had to grab onto a tree branch to keep
himself from going to her. Hitokage curled her lips up (it could not be called
a smile) and pointed another of her fangs, aiming for her heart. In reality,
Hitokage was planning to hit a fang into Sailormoon's thigh so the senshi
would be incapacitated when she used the machine, but was unconcerned with the
senshi's perception of the situation.

But her assault was intercepted by the crimson rose speeding across,
effectively cutting her off. Hitokage looked up to see a lithe, muscular frame
clad in a black tuxedo, cape, and kamen.

Sailormoon felt her eyes tear as she looked up to the same form. "Tuxedo
Kamen-sama!" she breathed, hope rising in her chest. Again and again her head
warned her against the foolish emotion, but her heart kept its constant vigil.
Her three guardian senshi clenched their fists in silent rage.

"The rose garden is a place with great symbolism for all those in love.
Lovers everywhere have been shamed tonight. How dare you disturb the quiet
sanctity of this garden! I, Tuxedo Kamen, will not forgive you!"

Esmeraude had counted on this interception and the corny, over-rehearsed
speech. For this reason, she had picked a youma of comparative intelligence: in
other words, Hitokage did not have the attention span of a hyperactive Chihuahua
on crack. Regular youma usually flailed at Tuxedo Kamen, rather than finishing
off the senshi in front of them, and thereby sealed their own fates. Hitokage,
on the other hand, paid no heed to the masked man. She simply grinned,
activated the machine in her hands, aimed, and pulled the trigger.

Tuxedo Kamen was the only one not frozen in place by the utter shock in
the fact a youma was actually bright enough to use the distraction of Tuxedo
Kamen's rose to her advantage--something that, incidentally, never happened
again, for after that all youma retained their usual stupidity--and knew he had
to act fast. The idea of losing Usagi in spite of his heart-wrenching efforts
to protect her nearly made him go to pieces. Without even thinking, he jumped
down and pushed Usagi out of the way, only to be hit by the blast himself. He
was dimly aware of a sound that was something like that of a vacuum ring in his
ears; a pulse of negative energy ripped through him.

"MAMO-CHAN!" Sailormoon's eyes were wide as saucers, brimming with tears.
She melodramatically threw her arms around the masked man. Sailormoon cradled
his head in her lap, leg forgotten in the midst of this newer, far greater pain.
The senshi watched on, horrified.

Mamoru looked up at her for a moment before everything went black.

"NO!" Sailormoon was screaming at the top of her lungs--no small sound
with her capacities. She looked up now, and her eyes locked on Hitokage, the
promise of vengeance blazing within.

Hitokage, for her part, was looking forward to her demise by Sailormoon.
Esmeraude hadn't been kidding with her threats, after all. She simply stood there
and patiently waited for the end to come.

"Jupiter thunderclap zap!"

"Shine aqua illusion!"

"Venus crescent beam shower!"

Okay, so she hadn't been looking forward to a pre-fry.

Sailormoon had torn herself away from Mamoru and was glaring at Hitokage
with a lethal glower in her eyes. For one moment, Sailormoon's pure heart
ventured into the dangerous realm of hatred and revenge. In one smooth, eerily
graceful motion, she activated the cutie moon rod and called forth her power.

"MOON PRINCESS HALATION!"

Destructive pink light ripped Hitokage into a thousand tiny pieces. Her
last act was a whispered prayer of apology to Esmeraude. Then she faded away.

Once the youma was destroyed, Sailormoon immediately de-morphed and went
back to Mamoru's side. "Aisuru..." she whispered brokenly, "Mamo-chan, wake up,
please."

"He's still alive, Usagi-chan." Ami, now back to normal form, was right
by Usagi, reassuring the girl.

"Are you sure?" Usagi asked, not quite believing of the situation.

"Hai, I'm sure."

"How often is Ami-chan wrong, Usagi-chan?" Minako grinned. "Besides,
whatever makes you stronger doesn't hurt you!"

"Uh, Mina-chan, that makes absolutely no sense..."

"Let's not bother with that right now, shall we? What hit him, Ami-chan?"
Makoto bent over Mamoru, curious and concerned.

"I don't know, actually. I did pick a strong influx of negative energy--
but the same energy has scrambled the program and caused the system to crash.
I'll have to go home and sort this out before I can give you a proper answer."

Mamoru stirred suddenly, and Usagi jumped to attention, ready to aid him
in any way possible. Makoto, seeing this and knowing her concern would probably
be brushed off, said gently, "Let's give him some space, Usagi-chan."

Usagi looked up at Makoto, nodded dumbly, and gently stood up, careful not
to jerk Mamoru's head in the process. Mamoru stirred again, and this time his
eyes opened partially. "Usagi?" he asked uncertainly.

"Hai, it's me, Tuxedo Kamen-sama," she replied, trying not to choke on her
words. "Are you all right?"

He suddenly recovered in full, and, feeling better, stood up. "I'm quite
all right, Sailormoon," he replied nonchalantly. He had seen the way her face
had fallen when he'd called her Usagi, but he couldn't be concerned with that.
It was his duty to protect her, after all. Not wanting to prolong the awkward
moment, he dusted himself off, called out, "Good work tonight, Sailormoon," and
took off for home.

As soon as he left, she began to cry. "Why won't he talk to me?" she
wailed to the sympathetic Mercury, Jupiter, and Venus, heart broken once again.

Venus wrapped her arms around the smaller girl and gave her a tight hug.
"Leave it be for tonight, Usagi-chan. Go home and get some sleep. You'll feel
better in the morning." Venus and Jupiter both guided the sobbing Sailormoon
away from the battle scene. Mercury followed close behind, fumbling with her
computer and occasionally cussing the system out. The other senshi could barely
contain their laughter as they listened.

Nobody noticed who still lay on the ground.

* * * * * * * * *

"@#$%!" Esmeraude was now partaking in her usual post-battle ritual of
ripping out her chartreuse hair and cursing at the top of her lungs. "&%#@ YOU,
HITOKAGE!"

"Let me guess." Saffir was standing in the doorway, Esmeraude have the
temper tantrum from Hell. "Hitokage screwed up."

"Of course not, Saffir-kun! This is a $^#*ING CELEBRATION!" Esmeraude threw
her fan at Saffir's head but was so angry she missed, making a dent in the stone wall
behind him.

Saffir grinned. "Do calm down, Esmeraude-chan. You need to look at this
from a different angle."

"WHAT DIFFERENT ANGLE!? THIS WAS MY LAST %$&@ING CHANCE??"

Saffir's grin widened. "What do you think would happen to Sailormoon if
her precious Tuxedo Kamen was eliminated?"

The furiously flailing green-haired woman froze abruptly, having gone
catatonic at this startling suggestion. Esmeraude slowly lowered her arms and
recomposed herself. A slow smile crossed her face. "Of course," Esmeraude
tossed her long hair behind her back and went to pick up her fan, "this was what
I intended all along."

"Whatever, Esmeraude-chan."

"What?! I did, you know!"

* * * * * * * * *

When Mamoru awakened, it was some time near dawn--extremely cold, with
just a sliver of dawn's light to help him see through the murky blackness of the
night. He came around rather slowly, finally managing to sit up and readjust
his thoughts.

He was still in the park. How was that possible? Had the senshi left him
there after he was hit?

An irrational anger gripped him, but he still had enough sense to suppress
it. Something had happened, but he couldn't figure out what.

Since sitting on the ground would do him little good, and the ground was
rather cold, anyways, Mamoru promptly stood up, dusted himself off, and sat down
at the closest bench. What had the monster hit him with? He sensed this one
fact was the key to many of his questions, but no matter how hard he tried, he
could not remember what had happened.

In his frustration, he punched a dent in the wooden bench. Then, calming
back down (and nursing his now-aching hand), he tried to think.

The logical thing to do was to transform and go back to his apartment to
sort things out. Mamoru reached into his pocket to grab a rose.

The rose was there but nothing happened. He couldn't transform.

A cry, and another dent appeared in the bench.

Then, he recovered himself again, and tried to think about this logically.
He could always walk home, of course, and then call the senshi or something.

Mamoru searched his jacket and realized he didn't have his keys. Or, for
that matter, his wallet.

That poor bench.

After a moment, Mamoru realized there was something in one of the inside
pockets of his jacket. An odd bulge of sorts. Opening the pocket, he pulled
out the contents and his jaw dropped as he pulled out a wad of bills.

"Masaka," he murmured, shocked to the core. There was easily 15,000 yen
here. Why in God's name was he carrying so much money? He rarely carried large
amounts of cash, preferred to use plastic. Mamoru had an impeccable credit
history. Every charge paid off within three months of it being made, and already
he had a full-time job, apartment, and a car--something that wasn't *always* an
advantage, considering the unbelievably large number of pre-approved credit
cards and mail from creditors eager to lend him money that found their way into
his mailbox. He could've easily saved a Giant Redwood with all the junk he got.

So where had the cash come from?

He was in no mood to ponder his unusual good fortune and decided that the
best move was to try and go home. Stuffing the money back in his pockets, he
began towards the long trek home.

On the way, he did a lot of thinking. Had the senshi left him there as
some sort of sadistic protest against his breakup with Usagi? At the thought of
her, Mamoru's insides constricted until he could barely breathe. A black wave
of guilt washed over him, and this time there was no protective bungee cord to
snap him from such thoughts. There was no rationale as to why he should have
ever left her. In fact, the only things his mind could come up with were why
he'd made such a stupid mistake.

Well, he'd talk to her this very morning, once he'd gotten home and
straightened everything out. He would apologize, explain himself, and beg her
forgiveness. At this thought, his heart lightened, and managed to trudge the
rest of the way back home.

* * * * * * * * *

"Chiba-san?! When did you leave the apartment?!"

Mamoru was at a loss for words. What in the hell was the guard talking
about? He was sure he hadn't been seen when he'd snuck out when he'd felt the
call...

The security guard eyed Mamoru suspiciously. "You came in here nearly six
hours ago. When did you go back out?"

"Uh...I needed some fresh air. So I went through the fire escape."

"The fire escape?"

"Um...yeah."

"The fire escape."

"I already said that!"

"The fire escape, right?"

"Oh, for the love of God, YES!"

"Why don't I believe you, Chiba-san?"

"I don't know!" Mamoru snapped at the guard in a tone very unlike him.

The guard was taken aback by Mamoru's angry reprieve and examined him a
little more carefully. "On second thought...you're not Chiba Mamoru, are you?"

"OF COURSE I AM!" Mamoru exploded at the guard. "Who do you think you are?!"

The guard shook his head. "I can't believe it. Let me see some ID."

Oops.

"Er...I left my wallet in my apartment?"

"Then I am not allowed to let you in. Look kid, I'll let you go on your
merry little way if you go right now. But after that, I'll book you for
trespassing."

Mamoru sighed and slumped his shoulders. "Fine. I'll go."

"And don't you *dare* try the fire escape!" the guard yelled after him.

Now Mamoru was truly confused. The sun was beginning to come up now, and
Mamoru walked towards a small deli. He stared at his reflection on the window.

Nothing had happened. Why did the security guard not recognize him?

When the deli opened, he went inside, and, realizing he was starving,
ordered a foot-long with everything on it and a large latte because caffeine is
good. Definitely not his usual fare, and the deli owner stared at him blankly.

Dumping more sugar into the latte, he watched his apartment doors
carefully, his mind wandering back to Usagi. Thinking about her made him
happier, and he had to suppress a violent urge to hightail it to her house at
that moment. Mamoru wolfed down the sandwich without even noticing its
disappearance, his mind consumed with thoughts of her...

That is, until his apartment doors opened.

And he walked out of them.

Mamoru fainted right there and then.

* * * * * * * * *

"Ami-chan?! What in God's name are you doing?"

"Sorry, Mako-chan," Ami mumbled from the pile beautifully organized
disarray of bolts, screws, chips, tools, and other technical equipment, "but
this baka system is still giving me trouble. I added 2 and 2 and it gave me
six."

"I've never seen the computer in such bad condition." That was Luna.
"What exactly happened, Ami-chan?"

"I really don't know," she admitted sheepishly, "but the system was in
very close proximity with the bolt aimed for Usagi, and I guess it couldn't
handle such a strong influx of energy. Unfortunately, my expertise in computer
programming doesn't go as far as what to do when metaphysical forces are
involved."

"Japanese, Ami-chan," Usagi urged, rolling her eyes.

"I don't know how to get it back online, minna-chan. And we won't know
what happened to Mamoru-san until I do."

Usagi's head was hanging very low. "There was something weird about Mamo-
chan last night."

"Nothing unusual there," Makoto grinned. Luna swatted her ear.

"What do you mean, Usagi-chan?" Ami asked, looking up from her system.

"I don't know what it was. It was just...different."

"What could the enemy have hit him with?" Makoto pondered aloud.

Luna sighed. "Ami-chan, may I borrow your computer? Artemis and I can
work on getting it back on line while the three of you are in class."

"Hai." Ami handed the computer down, and Luna carefully picked it up with
her mouth.

"Hmpvh mm mguuf daa," she said with the system in her mouth. Waving a
paw, she scuttled off.

"Let's go to class, Usagi-chan," Makoto urged. "Don't worry about Mamoru-
san." Leaning over to Ami, she muttered, "He certainly isn't worried about
*her*," under her breath, her disgust overt.

* * * * * * * * *

When he had regained his composure, Mamoru realized that the machine must
have somehow done this to him, created some sort of clone of him. The idea
boggled his mind, but he couldn't be bothered with the logistics at that moment.
His first thought was of Usagi, that this Mamoru-that-really-wasn't-Mamoru might
try to hurt her somehow.

And hence, the decision to follow the clone, figure out its intentions.
Even without his abilities as Tuxedo Kamen, he could still follow someone rather
stealthily. Once or twice, the not-Mamoru would look back, but if he saw
anything he did not act upon it.

The real Mamoru, meanwhile, was unsure of what to expect. Where,
precisely, was the not-Mamoru going?

He got his answer as the clone stopped in front of a large complex
littered with college students.

Moto Azabu Technical University.

Mamoru wanted to laugh aloud. The evil clone was going to *school* for
him?! Was this some kind of joke?! If he were in the evil clone's position, he
certainly wouldn't have gone to school. The idea of a clone was actually
beginning to sound a little appealing...

* * * * * * * * *

Bioethics class.

His clone was right on time for the 7 AM class, was five minutes early, in
fact. Not-Mamoru turned in his paper (the clone had finished his paper, too?!),
and proceeded to answer nearly every question he was asked correctly, garnering
praise from his professor. For the first time, Mamoru was able to observe the
dagger-like looks of his classmates. Well, what did he expect for sucking up
like that? A slap on the back?

As for the not-Mamoru, he paid them no heed. He was more concerned with
the fact his own affairs had to be in perfect order. Not-Mamoru was always
attentive and focused. When others were sleeping, doodling, or daydreaming in
the back, the clone was taking notes. Copious notes. His clone went through
sixteen pages in a 2-hour period. Was that some sort of record? He didn't
really know. But the clone didn't seem to be doing anything out of the
ordinary, at least not for the real Mamoru. Hell, he was even sitting in
the second row, as if that didn't have 'smack' written all over it.

Played by all the rules, but won the game: Mamoru recalled he had a 99
average in the class. But had he really won?

Mamoru sighed. Paper in on time, in the second row, copious notes, every
question right.

His clone was a brown-noser.

This time, Mamoru did laugh aloud. This was getting ridiculous!

Then again...it was not extraordinary in any way. In fact, the clone was
doing everything he usually did in his position.

Yet it was not that in of itself that bothered him. It was his nature; he
could not have changed his meticulous habits if he'd wanted to. It was the fact
he was seemed so...solitary. He had long since acknowledged it was lonely at
the top, yet at the same time this had suited him. Now it seemed...confining.

And when had his life become so mundane? Mamoru had always looked to the
future, when he could acquire his doctorate and make waves in the world of
bioengineering. Already his professors had praised many of his theories, and
he'd cherished that, little talismans he'd kept close to his heart in moments of
need.

Achievement. Making his mark in the world. He wanted people to respect
him. It had been his goal all his life, his sustenance, the one thing he had
ever put full faith in. Always be the best, the smartest, the most respected.
After all, whoever had the most toys ruled the sandbox.

Why did sound so empty now?

* * * * * * * * *

Organic Chemistry.

He had a lab today, followed by a presentation to the class. Something
with microspheres. Mamoru didn't actually care at this point. All this
introspection was beginning to depress him. No wonder he usually avoided it at
all costs.

His clone was in a group with one other guy and two girls, one blonde, one
redhead. The girls, he recalled vaguely, were intelligent and resourceful
separately, but together turned giggly and didn't have the brainpower of a
Barbie doll between them. It was rather irksome.

The guy was capable enough, but wanted the blonde in the worst way and was
openly hostile towards Mamoru. Made sense, considering the blonde with in love
with Mamoru and wouldn't even give the other guy the time of day. Mamoru hadn't
even noticed her strange behavior around him until he had gotten to know Usagi,
at least as much as you knew anyone when you were her self-proclaimed tormentor.
It was incredible how much she had opened his eyes, allowed him to finally
comprehend and consider the thoughts and feelings of those around him.

Usagi had changed his whole perspective. Mamoru remembered the first time
he'd seen the little odango--the way his heart had started pounding at the sight
of her wrinkled nose and red-faced wrath. For the first time in his life,
another person had appeared on his life spectrum and turned everything upside-
down.

Why *had* he worked so hard to deny his feelings for her? Tormented her
the way he had? Ignored her as Tuxedo Kamen?

Mamoru's attention snapped back at the sound of applause. The first
presentation had finished. His group was second.

And his clone clearly knew what he was talking about. The presentation
was so thorough and well executed the place was silent and the professor
practically in tears. Well, the professor was psychotic anyways. Anyone who
considered bacteria good company was.

After that, he sat down. Most of the students congratulated he guy and
two girls for their outstanding presentation. Pats on the back, high-fives,
hugs, the usual.

No one said a word to Mamoru.

He'd done most of the research, too. And proposed the theory they'd used.
And put most of the presentation together. And done most of the speaking.

Not a word.

But, thinking about it, it wasn't as if he really had any friends in the
class. Or, mentally reviewing his schedule, in any of his classes.

It occurred to Mamoru what he was doing. What an odd opportunity he had--
to watch his own life set out before him like a play, see it as a member of the
audience rather than writer, director, and star.

He really didn't like his play at all.

* * * * * * * *

"Chiba-san!"

It was the blonde from his lab group. Only she wasn't calling to him, but
to the not-Mamoru.

"Kotono-san. Is something the matter?" Not-Mamoru's voice was eerily
cool and controlled, but it wasn't unfamiliar.

Kotono looked down, blushing rather hard. "Well, I, uh...wanted to say
good job today. You really bowled them over."

"Arigato, Kotono-san." Not-Mamoru turned to leave.

"Matte!" Her voice was harsh and cracking a little, strained from
anxiety.

Not-Mamoru spun back around. "What, Kotono-san?"

"Well, I was thinking...there's this great club that just opened near my
place and they're having a big kick-off celebration with a bunch really great
bands playing tomorrow night. I got tickets early; they sold in less than a
day. But now Miyuki-chan can't go and I was wondering...if maybe...if you're
not busy..." She was looking down at the ground the entire time, her face
bright red.

"Unfortunately, I am."

The hell he was. His Friday night was free and clear, like usual.

"Oh, well, maybe another time?"

"Perhaps."

"I mean..." This was obviously difficult for Kotono; she was bright red
and fidgeting like a toddler at a wedding. "I really enjoyed working with you,
Chiba-san. And I thought...you know...maybe...you and I..."

Oh, *that's* what she was doing.

"Kotono-san, you're a nice girl, but I am involved with someone else right
now."

Uh...was his clone a little behind or something? He'd broken it off with
Usagi weeks ago. At the thought, his heart twisted rather painfully.

Kotono's eyes widened. "I heard..."

"You heard incorrectly."

"Demo, Chiba-san..." Kotono clamped her arm onto Mamoru's and looked
beseechingly into his eyes, "you wouldn't possibly go out with a little middle-
schooler..."

If only the bench had been there right now. Mamoru's fists clenched and
he wondered if his angle was good enough to let a rose fly straight into the
girl's heart. He didn't care if the Prime Minister himself had said it. NOBODY
insulted Usagi like that.

But the not-Mamoru, who had proved himself all day to be a veritable
standard of logic, ration, sensibility and practicality, lived up to his
reputation. "Who I date is my own business, Kotono-san. Frankly, if you
believe you are more mature than the 'little middle-schooler,' you need to
seriously rethink your position. Now, if you would kindly remove your arm from
mine, I would appreciate it. You're cutting off my circulation."

Ouch. That was cruel.

But it wasn't out of character for his clone.

Or for himself.

When had he become so cold? No wonder he was so isolated. Treating
people like that did not win friends.

The not-Mamoru didn't even blink.

Kotono reluctantly let go of not-Mamoru and turned her face down. Mamoru
didn't miss the tears dripping onto the grass.

"I HATE YOU!"

She broke into a run and left, clearly not wanting to be in his presence
longer. His clone turned and walked away.

This not-Mamoru was harsh and colder than ice, cynical and bitter. It
didn't seem human. Surely he himself wasn't like that...

But he was. It was all too clear to him now.

And Mamoru couldn't stop his own tears from dripping down.

* * * * * * * * *

Work.

His job was at as an assistant/intern at a local laboratory, and it paid
surprisingly well. It was the perfect place to gather experience and
connections while paying the bills. How logical. How utterly sagacious. How,
wonderfully, inanely, incredibly commonsensical!

Mamoru was beginning to make himself sick.

Now at work, he observed his clone and those around him intensely,
searching for any sign of warmth, compassion from another, camaraderie,
anything. After about an hour, he realized it was hopeless.

Finally he left the clone be, not actually caring what not-Mamoru did.
Walking down the street, he felt his isolation from the rest of the human race
acutely; emotions that he thought he'd had safely locked away, never to bother
him again, stirred within.

He had learned this way of dealing with his emotions at a very young age.
The loneliness and hurt of his childhood were never going to heal in the
mechanical system of the orphanage. There had never been anyone who cared
enough to help him heal. He'd pushed the feelings away, buried them somewhere
he believed they'd never be found again. But the more he'd isolated himself,
the less was his chance of anyone wanting to help, and the greater the pain to
bury.

And suddenly, in one triumphant burst, he just came apart. Like Pandora's
Box opening, years of loneliness and anguish flooded him in a split-second
blast. Every emotion, everything he thought was gone, sealed away for eternity
...flowing through every vein of his body at an exorbitant rate. The pain and
loneliness of the last 12 years hit him over the head like a sledgehammer.
Mamoru had to grip the wall just to keep standing.

He was suddenly aware of the fact people were staring at him. Looking
down at his hand, he saw why. He was clutching the wall so hard his knuckles were
white.

Oh God, was his life really so empty? Mamoru magically understood why making his
mark in the world had been so important before. He'd never had any warmth or
love in his life, and therefore mistaken respect for love. It didn't matter how
well his grief had been buried, it had still seeped out, colored his life and
left him feeling worthless, no matter how many awards he won, how many lives he
could save, no matter what he could give to mankind.

Just days ago, if anyone had asked him what he wanted most in life, he
would've told them it was to become the best-respected name in the scientific
world.

Today he wanted to be loved.

* * * * * * * * *

By 3 o'clock, he was so miserable he could barely stand it. He needed to
see someone, talk to someone, anything to assuage the pain that was now
consuming him. He was dying from the inside out, freezing despite the warm
weather outside, longing for something he couldn't have. His eyes had ceased
seeing properly, were barely able to make out the sign to the Crown Arcade
Center he now stumbled into.

Motoki looked up even before the bell rang.

"Mamoru-kun?"

Mamoru nodded slightly and sat down at a bench. "The usual coffee."

Motoki prepared the coffee as fast as he could. Mamoru really looked like
he needed it. He handed the cup to his friend. Mamoru accepted it, but did not
drink. His head hung low, staring straight through the counter. Motoki's sharp
eyes noted Mamoru was shaking slightly, but it was warm inside the Arcade. What
had happened? He had never seen Mamoru like this before, and he was becoming
alarmed.

"Could you tell me what happened, Mamoru-kun?"

Mamoru looked up, directly into Motoki's eyes. Motoki was even more
frightened. His eyes reflected the depth and intensity of his inner torrent of
emotion, drawing the blond man in. It was rather disconcerting--Motoki
anxiously scooted a modicum away, unnerved by the terrible gaze.

Mamoru picked the minor gesture up, and the look of pure misery impossibly
increased. His head sank back down for a moment before he stood up again, left
some yen to pay for the coffee, and walked out without saying another word.
Motoki felt awful about it, but there was nothing he could do.

Well, nothing *he* could do. But he knew someone who probably could.

* * * * * * * * *

Usagi did not skip into the Arcade as she usually did, or trip over a
stool and cheerfully jump back up with an assurance she was all right, or bounce
to the counter to flirt with Motoki like she usually did. Instead, she silently
walked to the Sailor V game and popped in a few coins, playing with more
determination than usual in an effort to forget about last night's attack.

"You okay, Usagi-chan?"

Usagi, absorbed in the game, mumbled an disjointed response. Motoki
intuitively took that as a 'sort of'.

"I'd like to talk to you, if you don't mind."

Beep.

"It's very important."

Beep.

"It's about Mamoru-san."

Again, his only answer was the beeping sounds of the SailorV game, and
Motoki was getting angry. In one swift motion, he reached behind the game and
pulled the plug.

Usagi turned around, hands clenched and face red in rage. "ONII-SAN!!!"
Yeah, that had gotten her attention, all right. "THAT WAS MY BEST SCORE
EVER!!!"

"Oh good, you're done with your game! I'm so glad. Now come with me,
I'll treat you to a milkshake and then I can talk to you."

* * * * * * * * *

"He was *shaking*?"

"Only a little, but it...it scared me. I don't think I've ever seen him
like that, Usagi-chan. I could barely stand to look in his eyes."

Usagi absentmindedly stirred her milkshake as she thought. "He's always
been reluctant to show his emotions, even when he and I were--" Usagi choked
back a small sob. Then, regaining her composure, she continued. "Something
must be really wrong, Motoki-kun." As her mind wandered to memory of last
night's attack, her anxiety increased. Could the bolt that had hit him have
caused some emotional reaction in him?

"I know. That's why I want you to talk to him."

"Where is he now?"

"I don't know."

"What do you mean, you don't know?!" Usagi's voice rose anxiously. "Where
did he go?"

"I was having a really difficult time looking him directly in eye. He
noticed that, and I think it hurt him. So he left."

Hurt because someone wouldn't look him in the eye? Something was definitely
wrong.

Unfortunately, Usagi didn't really get any more time to think. Mamoru
presently entered. Her heart started beating rapidly, and she felt the same odd
energy she always felt when she was near--like one of his roses had opened
inside her chest. Motoki looked a little nervous, remembering what had happened
earlier.

But to both of their surprise, Mamoru was his usual cool, cordial self,
ordering a coffee and chatting politely with Motoki. Both exchanged confused
glances.

"Uh, Mamo--Mamoru-san, it's good to see you again."

"It's good to see you, too, Usagi-chan." Mamoru kept his voice steady,
knowing it was his duty to protect Usagi from him. She looked so small and
sweet, it was unnerving him internally, but he kept his cool. "I trust that you
are doing well."

Usagi-chan. That hurt. "Quite well, Mamoru-san. How about you?"

"Fine, thank you."

"Really?"

Mamoru gave her an odd look. "Really."

"Well, you know," Usagi looked down and twiddled her thumbs nervously,
"I'm always here if you need me."

"Thank you, Usagi-chan, for your sentiment." And he promptly ignored her,
went back to mulling over his coffee.

Usagi tapped his shoulder again. "Are you sure you're all right, Mamoru-
san?"

Hating himself the entire time for it, Mamoru said sharply to her, "You no
longer have any cause for concern over my welfare, Usagi."

Usagi looked as if she'd just been struck, lower lip trembling as she
blinked back tears. At that moment, Mamoru wanted more than anything to take
back his terrible statement, but the reality stood. He had to protect Usagi.
Furthermore, if he could say such cruel things to her, then he never really
deserved her in the first place.

*SMACK!* Mamoru's face stung sharply. Usagi had made certain that her
nails had dug as she had slapped him, and fine red lines of blood remained.

"I hate you," she hissed, her voice like acid.

"Good," he replied, no matter how much his heart twisted within.

"You know, at the rate you're going, Chiba Mamoru, you're going to die a
very lonely man," Usagi said acerbically. Then, she spun in her heels and
walked out, ready to blow.

* * * * * * * * *

"THE NERVE OF THAT MAN!" Had Motoki deliberately set her up for failure?!
No, that wasn't like him, he knew how much Mamoru's mysterious break-off had
hurt her. He wouldn't be that cruel.

So why had he done it? If he'd been so messed up earlier in the day why
had he completely blown her off now?

Usagi kept walking, fists clenched and a dangerous glint in her eye. Time
to duck and cover.

"Excuse me, Usagi-kouhai?"

"NANI?!"

This was the VERY ill-timed moment Furukawa Shinji, a handsome, well-liked
ninth-grader from Usagi's school with a major crush on the little blonde rabbit,
had decided to pounce.

"Well...I was just wondering..."

"Spit it out, Shinji-senpai!"

"Ifyou'dliketogetsomeicecreamwithmetodayatthepark."

Usagi stopped and her fists unclenched. "Ice cream?"

"Uh...yeah...but if this is a bad time..."

"No no! I'd love to get some ice cream with you!" Usagi grabbed Shinji's
arm, flinging him to her side. He gulped, a small rock forming in his stomach to
complement the butterflies.

* * * * * * * * *

"Wow, you're way nicer than my ex-boyfriend..."

"Uh, why..."

"I mean, yeah, he was a college student and all..."

"Isn't that..."

"And really handsome. I mean, there were always girls drooling over him.
He has these eyes a girl could get lost in, all stormy and wonderful and all
that. And his body! Oh God, his body...Mamo-chan's REALLY cut...all my friends
were jealous..."

"Are you..."

"And intelligent. He's ranked first in Moto Azabu's pre-med class, and he
speaks English fluently. Plus, he got a full scholarship to college and paid
for his own apartment and car, and let me tell you, it's a nice car..."

"Is that..."

"You know, I'm not really all that bright in the first place. Otherwise
I might've realized we have nothing in common. He's kinda the dark, handsome,
brooding type, you know, every girl's dreamy 'tall, dark stranger' who'll come sweeep
you away from boring old life, but I'm all pastels and bunnies and bubblegum. Not to
mention clumsy and he's graceful, for a guy...what happened to that bench over there...?"

"I don't think..."

"But he's so cold all the time. Talk about communication problems! He's
so closed off..."

"He was..."

"He never really acted like, you know, he *had* to have me, like that
undying devotion you see in books and movies..."

"Had to..."

"And you know, I totally would've given it up for him, too..."

"You WOULD'VE..."

"Oh, I know what people say about older guys and younger girls and
pressure and all, but it wasn't really like that..."

"Is that..."

"I really wanted to, but he was always, 'you're too young, we should
wait', and that kind of thing makes me mad. I mean, I was totally ready, and
even now, looking back, I can say I wouldn't have had any regrets, even knowing
he would've dumped me."

"With..."

"But seriously, aren't most guys desperate to jump girls' bones? I mean,
look at the guys at our school. They're all so horny they see a girl's bra
strap and pitch a tent! It's disgusting, really. Men can be such pigs."

"Uh, not..."

"Oh, who am I kidding? He did want me like that. I'm just a stupid
little middle-school student. I mean, he never even tried to get into my
skirt and all that. We had some steamy kisses, though..."

"I know if..."

"It's hard," she said suddenly, sighing softly. "I'm just a kid, after all.
Sometimes I wonder if my 'undying devotion' to him will just fade away. He cast me
aside pretty easily. Isn't real love supposed to be stronger than that? If he had
really loved me, wouldn't he have come to me and just...I don't know...I would've
listened. I would've understood." Her eyes were distant. "After all, it was a
real love."

Shinji wasn't completely dense. He knew the rabbit's heart already belonged
to this mysterious man who, he guessed, either didn't know what he had lost or knew
too well.

"But at the time I meant it!" she exclaimed, returning to the original subject.
"I was really ready..."

"I'm sure you..."

"Well, maybe not for some of the foreplay stuff..."

"Foreplay...?"

"Like what I heard the intern did to the American President..."

"You mean..."

"My friend Minako told me about that. You know, what they did in the Oval
Office? With that blue dress or something? Mina-chan said stripes are going to
come back in style now, and then Rei-chan told her it was polka dots. I hear
the woman designs purses now..."

"Oh, THAT..."

"I mean, what would possess a woman to..."

"Let's not..."

"You're right, this is us-getting-ice-cream-together time." Usagi
vindictively took a lick of her now-melting triple-scoop chocolate chip, double
fudge, and chocolate-chip-cookie-dough in a waffle cone covered with hot fudge.
All the chocolate reminded her of *him*. "So tell me about yourself," she ordered
Shinji. What's your favorite color?"

"My favorite..."

"Mamo-chan's favorite color is black..."

"Uh, green..."

"That's so LIKE him, to be all depressing and like black and all that...."

"Black's a..."

"I mean yeah, he has that whole tortured soul thing going for him, the
depraved childhood and all. I'm surprised he doesn't read all that depressing
suicidal poetry like most of the people like that..."

"Tortured...?"

"But seriously, who does he think he is, dumping me without even giving me
a reason? I gave him my heart, darnit!"

"He didn't..."

"Nothing. Nada. Zip. No reason to explain it..."

"That's..."

"He never even told me he loved me..."

"He..."

"But that doesn't matter at all to me..."

"Does it..."

"After all, I *did* slap him earlier today..."

"You SLAPPED..."

"He was being such a jerk...he totally deserved it..."

"But really..."

"I would've kicked him you-know-where if I could've..."

"That would be..."

"Oh, don't defend him," Usagi groaned. "Men...you're all the same!
I'm totally over Mamo-chan anyways..."

"Are you..."

"I'm so angry with him, though..."

"I guess..."

"If he came back to me today and got on his knees and BEGGED me for
forgiveness, I *still* wouldn't forgive him! I mean it!"

"I wouldn't..."

"I think I'm going to swear off all men. No, really, I mean it! I'm
going to join a convent and become a nun. Or at least I would 'cept I look
terrible in black. Minako-chan said I look like I'm in the last stages of
digestion,* and then Ami-chan yelled at her. Oh, and I guess the hood would
look a little silly with my odango. Plus I giggle."

"Well, ah..."

"What's it matter? I'm just going to live alone with 25 cats in a big
Victorian house with shuttered windows and all the kids on the street will
call me the Cat Lady. And I'm going to burn all my bras and fight for
women's rights and..."

Enough was enough; he'd been downright saintly through this ordeal and
was ready to collect his due...even if he knew it was all he was going get
from her. Without any warning, (and totally ignoring the preceding 20-minute
lecture of the evils of the male sepcies) the young man swiftly sealed his lips
onto Usagi's.

* * * * * * * * *

The sudden, searing pain on his cheek was enough to bring him partially
back to reality. Struggling to focus, he grasped onto the one thing that was
tangible at the moment.

Usagi.

Mamoru's clouded mind suddenly snapped into the clear. *Usagi*. He'd
completely forgotten about her in the midst of his depression.

Thoughts of her warmed him instantly, a precious few memories that were
more vital to him at that moment than oxygen. Memories of her fresh, smiling
face, the smell of roses that surrounded her, the soft golden hair, and the
voice that changed from a sweet soprano to a banshee wail in exactly 3.8231
seconds overwhelmed him all of a sudden excited his senses and brought him
a heady sense of peace all at once.

The way she always fell straight into his arms. The way she tried to
please him in any number of highly original ways. The way she had accepted and
loved him unconditionally, had tried so hard to get past his cool exterior, had
never given up despite stern resistance.

He couldn't stand it anymore. He needed to see her, needed to touch her,
needed to have her soothe away the ache in his heart. Mamoru knew that he had
hurt her; he knew that his dreams had told him to stay away from her, but he
just couldn't keep away any longer. The pain was slowly killing him, and she was the
only person who had ever loved him...his Princess, the sole bright spot in his
tedious life. For the first time, the dream's hold on him had retreated, and
now Mamoru realized that there may have been nothing to the dreams after all,
that he could protect and provide for Usagi, so that the empty achievements of
his life would have some meaning at last.

Closing his eyes, he mentally located Usagi in the park. Mamoru rushed there,
heart lightened by the thought of reconciliation with her. He could practically
taste her lips, and it was driving him insane.

And then...Mamoru rubbed his eyes, but yes, he was seeing correctly. It
was Usagi, all right. And a guy.

A guy who was kissing the daylights out of her.

Mamoru let out a small cry before turning away, unable to watch.

* * * * * * * * *

Usagi was not happy about this.

No, not at all.

In fact, she was very, very, angry.

And she had learned from Minako how to make sure a guy knew you were
angry.

Very, very angry.

So a very, very, angry knee swiftly came up and made contact where Shinji
kept his family jewels.

"&!*@!" He dropped to the ground in total agony, groaning as his life
flashed before him. Ah, so many regrets...especially this, especially this.

"ECCHI!!!" Usagi screeched as loud as humanly possible. "Who do you
think you ARE?! Were you listening to me at ALL?!"

"Forgive me," Shinji croaked between moans and curses, "but you wouldn't
shut up..." Usagi stood there, mouth gaping. Shinji finally managed to recover
himself, if not his dignity, and stand up.

"Uh...I'll walk you home, if I can still walk," he said shakily, offering
a watery smile.

Well, it was obvious to Shinji that Usagi probably wasn't interested. So,
getting up and grabbing one hand in a brotherly manner while protecting his
downstairs region with the other, he started to walk Usagi home.

"Thanks for listening to my babbling," Usagi said with a slight smile.
"You're okay...for a man. And a hentai."

"Hai, um...by any chance, that blonde, with the big bow?"

"Aino Minako?"

"Hai...is she free, by any chance?"

"Mina-chan? Oh yeah, she's totally single! Completely, utterly,
thoroughly single! She's desperate for any contact with any man!"

* * * * * * * * *

It was right after his second glass of sake Mamoru realized that if he
were to die that night, no one would mourn his loss.

The alcohol warmed him; it was smooth and eased him away from stinging
despair into the lull of drunken oblivion, laced with dull depression rather
than the intense gnawing sensation of before. Of course, alcohol was a
depressant, he'd learned that in Biological Psychology, but that wasn't exactly
registering right now. After witnessing the scene with Usagi he had walked for
hours, giving free reign to his inner demons and allowing his mind to trap him into
all sorts of sugarcoated-strychnine lies. Now he needed to kill the pain fast.

Cold and isolated as it may have been, Mamoru now understood why he'd kept
his icy exterior even as he'd longed for love--it was much less painful to live
behind that cold exterior, to use it as armor and defense mechanism. Maybe it was
lonely, but the grief didn't seep inside...or get out, either. It was a
method of survival, and a very good one, at that. Intelligence, success, and
independence had made it easy to construct, and his armor was once stronger than
steel.

So where was his protection now? He felt helpless and alone, victim to
the years of buried anger and loneliness. His defenses had been stripped away
from him; he was left weak as a kitten. He downed another glass of sake, then
decided to be ethnically diverse and try tequila.

And Usagi...Mamoru certainly could've seen this one coming. In his mind,
Usagi was the only thing that made any sense. Mamoru had once prided himself on
not needing anyone or anything. From the start, Usagi had been a threat to
that. It was natural for him to believe that she wouldn't feel the same way.
Not to mention he found it a little absurd to be lusting after (and later, he
admitted, in love with) a girl so much younger than he was. When viewed in that
light, it made perfect sense that he had done as much as possible to drive her
away and deny himself the one thing he'd ever really wanted. But he had
been unable to stay away. So the constant teasing had been safe; there were no
feelings involved but he allowed himself to see and even interact with her on a
regular basis until he got over her.

Only there *were* emotions involved. And they had grown stronger; they had
not lessened like his rational mind had reasoned they would. But she had hated
him...

The fifth drink got him to openly acknowledge he never actually believed
Usagi cared for him. It didn't matter that he had grown to love her with
a passion and adoration that made Romeo's love for Juliet seem like sisterly
affection by the time the ginzuishou was restored and they were reunited. He
had tormented her, made her loathe him...well, hadn't he? Mamoru believed in Usagi,
but he had never believed in her love for *him*, the Endymion of this era, rather
than the noble Prince of 1,000 years ago.

"You look like you're a bit stressed."

Mamoru dazedly made out black hair and green eyes while he tried to grasp
reality. It didn't really work.

"Hai," he murmured.

"Something I can help you with?"

"Don't think so." He ordered another glass of sake and drank it down in
three gulps.

"I can loosen you up a bit..." Small, soft hands touched upon his
collarbone. A little figure snuggled against him, and he nuzzled her a bit. He
felt warm for the first time all day.

He took her chin in his hands and tilted it to him, gently bringing his
mouth down. She was experienced, and he took advantage of it, losing himself in
the feel of the kiss. Mamoru leaned in hungrily, breaking off the kiss and
trailing kisses down her neck and throat.

"Usako...God, you feel so good..." Mamoru could feel his heart lightening
as he kissed her.

The next sensation was the sharp sting of nails reopening the mar on his
cheek. Furious, she stormed out, taking her warmth with her.

He cried out slightly and reached out for her, but she was already gone.

"Ouch," the bartender commented suddenly, interrupting his miserable
reverie. He pulled a stool up to see the cut. "She got you good," he
declared, examining the laceration. "Look, one of the guys is a pre-med student.
Let me go him so he can patch that up."

Mamoru swatted the bartender's hands away. "Leave it," he enjoined
listlessly. "I don't care. Just get me another drink."

He downed the glass in less than sixty seconds.

* * * * * * * * *

"Why did you call this meeting, Artemis?" Usagi was still fuming over her
heinous day, and she didn't really feel up to a big long lecture from the cats.
They were, once again, at the shrine, and Usagi, Makoto, and Minako had already
attacked Rei's manga collection. Ami was working with Artemis, still trying to
get the computer to work right.

"She didn't." Mamoru quietly stepped into the shrine's main room, his
lean figure sending simultaneous waves of fury and rapture through Usagi. "I
did."

"Mamoru-san has something important he needed to bring to our attention,"
Luna said, coming out from behind him. "It's rather urgent."

"Hurry up," Minako said, eyeing her nails. "I have a nail appointment in
half an hour."

Artemis swatted her with his paw. "What did we talk about last week?!" he
hissed at the blonde.

"Oh, get over it. If I'm the Bishoujo Senshi Sailorvenus, I'd better look
the part."

"Our fearless leader, ladies and gentlemen," Rei muttered.

"I HEARD THAT!"

"Can we focus please?" Ami snapped impatiently. "I'm interested in
hearing this. Go ahead, Mamoru-san."

Mamoru sighed and picked some imaginary lint off his infamous green
jacket. "I believe you are all aware of what happened at the attack last
night."

"No, I'm not," Rei said. "I wasn't there."

"Where were you last night, anyways?" Makoto asked lazily. "Even Usagi-
chan showed up."

"Hey! That's not fair!" Usagi squeaked.

"Usagi-chan's tardiness is not the issue here," Mamoru said sharply, "and
should not be brought into this matter." The tone suggested he was not to be
pushed.

Luna looked up at Mamoru. Despite all his claims, he was still protecting
her under any and all circumstances. What, precisely, had happened between
them?

"For your information, Mako-chan, I was at a political reception for my
father on the outskirts of town. I was too far away to reach the battle in
time. And even so I couldn't wear my communicator in the hall because it wasn't
fashionable!"

"Wasn't fashionable? You sound like Minako-chan."

"That's cruel!"

"HOW IS THAT CRUEL?!" Minako was practically foaming at the mouth.

"ALL RIGHT!" Luna screamed. "ENOUGH!!! Ami-chan, please explain to
Rei-chan what happened last night."

Ami then proceeded to give an over-detailed, rather bombastic account of
the battle the night before which confused even Mamoru, left all the senshi
permanently dumber, and resulted in sweatdrops all around.

"Um, do they sell Frank's Notes for that?" Minako asked weakly, trying to
comprehend.

"Cliff's Notes," Ami groaned.

"Sorry," Minako squeaked feebly. "I think I shorted some brain cells
trying to understand all that."

"Oh, damn you all!" Ami screeched uncharacteristically, making the
senshi jump out of their skins. "Mako-chan, YOU explain."

This time, Makoto used lots of nice, small words that would have made Dr.
Seuss proud. At very least the senshi understood her.

"Mamoru-san!" Rei's eyes widened a little too concernedly when Mako finished
recounting the assault. "Are you all right?"

"Not exactly. That's why I'm here tonight. I know now what happened to
me last night."

"What?" All of the senshi looked up.

"I believe the device created a organic reproduction of my body to serve
the Black Moon."

"Translation?" Minako queried.

Mamoru growled. "I was cloned."

"Oh, you mean like that pig? What's her name, Loretta?"

"Dolly," Ami said through clenched teeth. "And she's a ewe."

"I am NOT a pig!**" Minako cried, obviously insulted. Ami sweatdropped.

"Anyways, I believe the clone will attempt to pass himself off as me and
use that to harm our team. I am not certain if he also cloned my power as
Tuxedo Kamen, but I urge all of you to take caution. It is my personal belief
he will try to harm Usagi-chan."

"Wait a minute," Makoto said sharply. "How do we know YOU'RE not the
clone and you have the REAL Mamoru stuffed in a box somewhere?"

"Or brainwashed and working for the Black Moon? He's awfully susceptible
to it," Minako added, growing serious.

Both senshi stood up, ready to pounce.

"It's him."

Usagi's voice was so small the senshi didn't respond for a moment. Then,
turning to her, they saw her looking at Mamoru with huge blue eyes, tense but
resolute.

Rei slipped over to Usagi's side and gently put an arm around her. It was
obvious Usagi was nearing the end of her rope. "How do you know, Usagi-chan?"
Rei asked softly, trying to be gentle.

Usagi sighed but her gaze did not falter. Mamoru shifted uncomfortably.
"I always know when he's nearby," she said softly.

"But how?" Rei pressed delicately.

"There's just...it's like whenever he's nearby, I feel something. Like a
rose blooming inside my chest."

Usagi finally looked down, blushing slightly. "It's silly, but...never
mind. He would never hurt me, even if he says he doesn't love me."

All four senshi gathered around Usagi, who gave them a sad, little half-smile.
They turned back to Mamoru with angry, accusing eyes.

Mamoru felt despicable. Usagi's life was more important to him than
anything was, but he did not know her feelings ran so deeply that she knew to
trust him instantly. He briefly wondered what it was like to be Usagi, to trust
everyone implicitly, to be so in touch with your feelings. Surely there were
many advantages...

Nonetheless, her life was still his utmost priority. As long as he
continued to have the dreams, he would not allow himself the pleasure of her
love. However...it was time to reconsider his strategy. "Usagi-chan, may I see
you outside for a moment?"

She shot up like a spring but replied "Hai," in that same small voice.

They walked out into the shrine gardens, Usagi slipping her hand into
Mamoru's almost unconsciously. Tonight, he did not protest.

It was dark but incredibly clear. The Hikawa Jinja was on top of a hill
and far enough away from the harsh artificial lights of Tokyo that a trillion
stars glittered brilliantly in the heavens, illuminating the haunting beauty of
the rock garden. She looked up for the moon but saw none, and gave a little
sigh of regret.

Usagi approached Mamoru and gently stroked the searing red lash she had
given him earlier that day. "I didn't mean what I said earlier," she said
softly. "Forgive me, Mamoru-san."

"I have not been honest with you, Usa." Usa. Usa was good. It wasn't
Usako, but it indicated a degree of comfort and intimacy. And it gave Usagi
some courage.

"I know, Mamo-chan."

"You do?" He looked at her oddly, his overly logical mind unable to
understand the depths of the human heart.

"Mamo-chan, I know you better than you think I do. And I think you're
just scared. I know you've had it hard, and there's no one who's ever really
forced themselves on your little world the way I tend to." She let out a sad
sigh. "But I'll wait for you to come around."

Scared? Mamoru mentally checked to see if she might be correct. She
wasn't, he was not scared of intimacy, and yet...he had the odd feeling he
*should* be scared. Unable to understand this, he pushed it aside for now.
Mamoru was not one for introspection.

"Usa, I have recently been forewarned that the continuation of our
relationship would result in your demise. After a lot of consideration, the
best possible solution is for me to avoid you at all costs."

"How? What happened?"

"Please don't push the envelope, Usa. I wish for you to have as little
involvement in this until I find out if my source is accurate."

"All right..." Usagi looked up at him, eyes poignant but hopeful. "I
don't think you're looking at this the same way as I would, Mamo-chan. Life is
for living. I'd rather live a year with you than a million without."

Mamoru sighed and reconsidered his strategy. After a moment, he knew what
to say--namely, the truth. "I could never be happy with you if there was any
chance my presence was endangering your life. Usa, knowing you are alive and
well means infinitely more to me than living with you, knowing I will bring
about your death."

"Oh..." This was different. The emotion Mamoru appealed in Usagi was her
desire to please him in any way she could.

"But..." He reached out and caressed his cheek with her hand. Mamoru
wanted Usagi to be reassured of the basis of his concern. "Never forget that I
do this so that you may live, Tsukino Usagi. My first priority is always your
well-being."

Usagi stood up on her tiptoes and pecked a light kiss on Mamoru's lips,
and few sad tears glistened like the stars above on her cheeks. "Aishiteru,
kobito-chan," she whispered hoarsely. "Sayonara." She gave him the same sad
little smile she had given the senshi earlier.

Usagi and Mamoru walked out of the garden together as clouds began to form
outside. They did not touch once.

* * * * * * * * *

"Mamoru-san, please wait..." Rei stopped Mamoru as he was preparing to get
in his car. By now it was raining moderately, droplets bouncing off the coat
and absorbing into Mamoru's thick black hair.

"Is something wrong, Rei-chan?"

"Usagi-chan told us what happened in the garden." Rei sighed. "It was
wise of you to tell her in the way you did. Now she won't push you to get back
together unless you feel she is out of danger."

"Hai." He opened his door.

"But why now?"

"What?"

"Why did you wait until tonight to tell her?" Rei asked, staring at him
quite pensively. "I was listening to Makoto's explanation of the battle. Are
you sure you yourself weren't affected by the bolt somehow?"

Mamoru looked himself over as if he expected to find a third arm or
something. "I don't feel any different, Rei-chan."

Rei scrutinized his trim figure. "I do sense something different about
you, Mamoru-san. Are you busy tomorrow?"

"Are you asking me out?"

"NANI?!" Rei jumped up so high she brushed the top of the cherry tree
they were standing under.

"Forgive me, Rei-chan," Mamoru blushed slightly. "I had a bad experience
earlier."

"It's okay. You caught me off guard, that's all. I was wondering because
I'd like to do a fire reading with you in the room, but I don't have time to
prepare tonight."

Mamoru found his day-planner lying on the passenger's seat and flipped to
the Saturday page. "Not until the evening."

"That's fine. Seven all right?"

"It's a date."

Rei turned as red as her robes.

"Uh...sorry." He got into the car as fast as he could.

* * * * * * * * *

He left after the sixth drink with his misery and a resolution.

Mamoru no longer felt drunk in the classical sense, the way he had before
his incident with the raven-haired woman. His coordination was as good as it
was sober, his speech was clear, and he was not nauseated in the least.

His mind, however, was murky and dim, registering only the pain that had
been swelling inside him all day. He couldn't think, couldn't concentrate,
couldn't even breathe properly. He did not notice the fact it was pouring
outside the bar. All he could focus on was how to make the pain go away. Fast.

It wasn't like anyone really cared whether he lived or died. Motoki, his
closest, perhaps only, friend, now seemed like a stranger to him. Usagi was
gone, did not care for him, had never really cared in the first place (Mamoru
had to stop for a moment and recover his breathing capacities when that thought
flashed across his mind), and he knew there would never be anyone else for him.
His achievements, no matter how great, were worthless now. He wanted love, but
laughed at the thought of anyone giving it to him.

So when he went across the bridge, he knew exactly how to fulfill his
resolution.

Looking down, he calculated that the height was enough to make certain
that even if he didn't die upon impact, the hand of God still couldn't save him.

"Aishiteru, Usako."

Mamoru closed his eyes and stepped towards the ledge.

* * * * * * * * *

*'Akayashi' is the surname of Rubeus's four subordinates. It means the 'four fake
sisters'.
**Groan...I know, I know. Sorry, I couldn't resist!

And just so ya don't forget: ai_02@yahoo.com. C'mon, people, you KNOW
you want to!