by Lady Aishiteru
Disclaimer: Hello amigo! I'm Chiquita Banana, and I'm here to say, bananas have to ripen in a special way! You can put them in your salad. You can put them in your pie-ie! Doesn't matter how you eat them! It's impossible to beat them! Bananas like it in the very very very tropical Equator! So you should never put bananas in the refrigerator!
REAL Disclaimer: I don't own Sailor Moon and Chiquita Inc. did NOT pay me to advertise for them. It's that damned insidious jingle...crept....into....brain....*CHA-CHA-CHA!* AAAAAAGH! Excuse me while I fetch myself a strong cup of coffee. Meanwhile, enjoy the fic!
~*~Mamoru's P.O.V~*~
I was on my fifth expresso and my third biology book when I heard the whoosh of the arcade door opening. I averted my gaze from the part I was reading momentarily at first, but then my eyes stuck to the bedraggled individual walking in. It was Usagi, and not only was she early, but she looked horrible. Normally, I would never say that about her, but she looked like she had picked a fight with the forces of gravity and lost. Usagi's hair was practically dragging on the ground, and I couldn't see her face. She plunked down in a booth and placed her head on her folded arms.
I decided to cheer her up with my usual Chiba sytled humor. "Hey, Odango, you're a sight for sore eyes."
Briefly, she looked up at me from where her head was rested, but her eyes held none of their usual fire. I had expected, even hoped, she would give me one of her cute little razzberries, or an attempt at a witty retort, but instead there was silence. Cool, unemotional, silence. My stomach twisted like a vise, and my eyebrows knotted together. This was NOT good.
I closed my book, then walked over to her booth and sat down. "Go away," she mumbled between her arms and the table.
"Ah, so she speaks after all."
"Are you deaf? I said, go away!"
I frowned. "No way. Not until you tell me what's wrong."
At this, her head snapped up. "Why would YOU care?"
I said nothing, and a brief, but awkward silence followed. "Why not?" I finally said.
She sighed. "I haven't gotten that much sleep lately, that's all."
I raised my eyebrow. "You too?"
"Yeah. I wonder what it could be?" she said, her face brightening a little.
"Well, maybe we both had better lay off the expresso," I said, gesturing to the five empty mugs where I had been sitting.
She laughed a little. "Yeah. Well, my friends should be here any minute-"
"Do you want me to leave?"
"No, you can stay. We were about to discuss ways to help people sleep better. Maybe it can help you too."
I smiled. Even at her worst, she was still willing to help.
~*~Usagi's P.O.V.~*~ "Do you want me to leave?"
My weary eyes took in Mamoru's expression, and some vague notion in the back of my mind told me that this was a rare occasion. Then it registered; he was SHOWING his emotions. The calm, collected mask he normally wore was gone, and in its place was a haggard, but somehow still sexy, man, with a worried look across his features. Something was definetly wrong.
"No, you can stay. We were about to discuss ways to help people sleep better. Maybe it can help you too," I said, giving him my best smile.
'What ARE you doing? This is your arch-enemy here! Why would you want to help HIM?!' my mind shouted.
'Just look at him. He looks almost....pathetic,' another part of my mind said.
'B...but...,'
In addition to my inner conflict, something deep inside of me told me that I shouldn't let Mamoru leave the arcade, not now, not in the state he was in. My instincts told me that maybe we could help each other.
Just as I was putting the voices in my mind to rest, Ami, Rei, Makoto and Minako walked through the door. "Hi, Usagi," said Ami.
"Are we sitting here today?" asked Rei.
I nodded.
"Him too?" asked Minako.
"Yep. He's...ah-"
"Doing research. For my...um...project," said Mamoru
I covered my mouth, resisting the urge to laugh. "So, what ideas have you come up with?" I asked.
The girls looked around for a second, then Makoto elbowed Rei. "I guess that means it's my turn," said Rei, glaring at Makoto, who grinned sheepishly. I leaned forward to listen.
"Well, what always relaxes me is a nice, hot bath, with a roaring fireplace in the background."
"Rei! I don't HAVE a fireplace!" I wailed.
"I know that. That's why I brought this," she said, flipping a CD on the table.
"Hn....'Sounds of the Roaring Hearth.' Sounds relaxing," said Ami, reading the contents.
"And I brought this, just in case," she added.
"'Sensual jasmine'?" I said, raising an eyebrow, at which Mamoru blushed.
"Oops! Wrong bottle. Here, try this one."
"But I want 'Sensual Jasmine!'" I said, switching to a husky voice for effect. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mamoru fidgeting a bit.
"Well, this is lavender and chamomile. It's supposed to help you relax," she said huffily.
"Thanks," I said, smiling like the Cheshire cat. She is so much fun to tease.
"Don't mention it," she said dryly. And her gaze added, "EVER!"
I did my homework, or tried to, anyways, but the text seemed to swim across the page and leap off to the left. At nine, I was about to call it a night, but then I remembered Rei's bath tip. I grabbed Rei's CD, her bottle of stuff, wrapped myself up in my favorite towel, and headed for the closed bathroom door.
After what seemed like hours, I pounded on the door. "Shiiiiiingooooo!" I wailed. "Some of us have to use the bathroom....THIS CENTURY!"
"Yeah, yeah, keep your towel on," said a voice from behind me.
"AGH! If you're here, who's in THERE?"
"I AM!" said a loud, deep and angry sounding voice from behind the door.
"Eh heh heh....sorry, Dad! I thought you were someone else."
"Duh," said Shingo.
"Oooh! You little amoeba!"
He stuck his tongue out at me and pulled down his eyelid. "Nyah!"
I balled my fist and chased him down the stairs. "GET BACK HERE, YOU LITTLE FUNGUS!" I yelled. Laughing like the crazed, pint-sized psychopath that he is, he ran straight down the stairs, then opened the door. Like a raging bull, I ran straight through it, expecting to see him on the other side of the door.
Instead, I found nothing but cool, night air. As soon as I realized the urgency of my situation, I did what any normal 14 year old girl would do. I panicked.
"SHIIIIINGO! You are SOOOO dead! Oooh....wait until I get my hands on you! I'll wring your scrawny little neck until your head pops off!" I yelled, banging on the door. I could just imagine that little brat, standing behind the door with his arms folded smugly across his chest, an evil smile playing on his face.
I felt a light on my back, and I turned around mid-rant. An important looking man and a well tailored woman came up to the door.
"Is this.....this Tsukino residence?"
I laughed nervously. "Um...er...yeah. The door...ah...seems to be stuck," I stuttered. "Let me....ah...see what I can do. SHINGO! Some GUESTS are here!"
"Oops!" I heard him say. He opened the door, and my towel, which was caught in it, slid down to the porch. His eyes bulged out like those of a frog, and I could feel the two men's eyes on my naked backside.
"You little PERVERT!" I yelled. I bowled him over and high-tailed it to the bathroom, where my father was just coming out.
"Young lady, you have some serious explaining to do!" he said. "But it will have to wait until my guests are finished. Come in, Furuhata Ryo, Furuhata Akira."
'Fu...ru...hata?' I sounded it out in my head. That name sounded eerily familiar...almost like Motoki at the....OH, NO! My face turned a million shades of red, and I slammed the door behind me, still holding the CD and bottle of special stuff.
I fiddled with the CD player that Dad keeps near the bathtub and turned the knob until the water reached a satisfacory temperature. I poured the purple liquid from the bottle, which turned out to be bubble bath, and I watched the suds rise. After a few minutes, I pushed the play button and climbed into the tub.
"MY NAME IS KIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIID ROOOOOOCK!" screamed the CD player.
"What in God's name is THAT?" I wondered. It sure didn't sound likeSounds of the Roaring Hearth. Rei must have forgotten to make sure the right CD was in its case. She complains a lot that Yuiichirou gets her CD's mixed up, and apparently, I had become a victim of that screw-up.
I reached for the CD player's remote control and furiously clicked the "off" button, but to no avail. I shook it, hard, then heard a hollow sound. Curious, I opened the battery pack in the rear and noticed that one battery was missing. Shingo must have taken it for his walkman. I screamed in frustration, but I could barely hear myself above the hard rock music. Splashing bubbles all over the floor, I raised myself out of the tub and turned off that awful noise. Feeling relieved, I sank back into the bubbles and squished them between my toes.
As I overheard muted voices talkiong from the living room, it dawned on me that my coffee bender wasn't the only reason I couldn't sleep last night. Maybe part of my insomnia was due to the nagging suspiscion that maybe Mamoru actually DID care about something other than himself and his physics book, namely me.
I mean, why me? We couldn't be any more different, I mused, running the shampoo through my hair. He's brainy, I'm....well....not. I'm not stupid, but let's just say that school and I do NOT get along. Especially that Ms. Haruna. I'm sure I deserve her wrath sometimes, but not every day! Does she LIKE ruining my social life with daily detention? Does she get pleasure out of watching me suffer? The thought of dealing with that vicious harpy for another day sent chills down my spine.
Mamoru seems to live and breathe school. He's always got his nose in some book or another, and he's always reading about things that are way above my head. As I rinsed the shampoo out of my hair and applied conditioner, I reflected on last week, when I saw him 'brushing up on sociology.' I asked him if it was anything cool, like an ice cream social, and he just laughed at me, like he always does. The kind of laughter that's against, not with you, the kind that makes me feel two inches tall, and burrows deep under my skin. I looked down at my hands and realized they were clenched into tight, pruny little fists.
But the Mamoru I had seen last night was different. He was more...human, somehow. I remembered the way his gaze lingered in my direction after he asked me not to take walks at night. His face was still emotionless, except his eyes, which conveyed an entirely different message. He looked almost worried...and not in a fatherly way. I wondered what he could possibly have been thinking, if it was about me. Then a feeling came over me...was it...hope?
I continued to think about him as I watched the bubbles swirling counter-clockwise down the drain. As I toweled off, I could hear Dad saying goodbye to his guests. As I heard their names one last time, something occured to me. The way Mr. Furuhata looked like Motoki, and the way his mannerisms were similar to Motoki. 'Oh, God. Motoki is his son!'
As I tucked myself under my blankets, I desperately hoped that Mr. Furuhata was the kind of man who would keep our little encounter to himself. My cheeks burned bright red, and I knew I wasn't going to get any sleep that night.