**DISCLAIMER: Sailor Moon and other characters belong to Naoko Takeuchi, Cartoon Network, etc

**DISCLAIMER: Sailor Moon and other characters belong to Naoko Takeuchi, Cartoon Network, etc. None of these characters belong to me. **

Author's Notes: Konnichiwa, minna-chan. I hope you like this next chapter. Sorry for the delay in posting. Remember that this is an AU. Please send some feedback or review! I love getting your comments, and I will consider any suggestions that you have. After all, I am writing this for you, and I do want you to like it. This chapter is more of a transitional to move the plot along: less action this time. Enjoy reading!

Rating: PG

*******************

"Not the glittering weapon fights the fight, but rather the hero's heart."

~ Proverb ~

Silver Eyes

by: The Silver Princess

Usagi dashed down the sidewalk, narrowly dodging several unsuspecting pedestrians with ease. Her golden pigtails fanned out behind her like fluttering ribbons, yellow as butter in the noonday sunshine, and her legs leapt across the cement, the balls of her feet barely touching against the surface. Momentarily losing herself in the adrenaline rush, she lowered her head and pumped her arms. The fabric of her skirt stuck against her thighs as her legs stretched forward with perfect form, and she imagined herself racing in a track meet, striving for that final burst of speed. Air blew on her face, gliding over her cheekbones and whistling into her ears, and the sun's heat pounded down on the nape of her neck.

Her eyes picked out the arcade's sign, and she immediately wrenched herself back to reason. The expertise of her stride and form degenerated and changed into the headlong, madcap barrel that she was known for—not the expert sprint she had foolishly allowed herself.

She bounced through the automatic doors, the ends of her flapping pigtails barely clearing them as they slid shut with a faint shloop. The joyful noises of the arcade surrounded her: the various pitches of beeping, the cheesy theme songs, the ring of bells, the excited laughter of children, and the loquacious babble of teenagers. Multicolored lights flashed and blinked around her as she headed towards the soda-counter.

"Konnichiwa, Motoki-san!" she bubbled cheerily. She settled on the stool and grinned widely as the sandy-haired man waved, excused himself, and headed towards her.

"Hey, Usagi-chan!" Motoki said. "What'll you have?"

"Cherry soda," Usagi answered promptly.

"Might've guessed," he said as he pulled out a glass from beneath the counter. "So where were you yesterday, imouto?" he asked curiously as he poured the soda into the glass. Multitudes of tiny bubbles zipped upward through the reddish drink, some attaching to the sides of the glass, and a layer of frothy foam formed until it threatened to overflow the rim. "You usually stop by after school," he added and gave her a pointed look as he put the soda away.

Usagi shrugged as he handed her the glass of soda. "Detention," she lied, falling back on the simplest and most expected excuse. She sipped her soda, the carbonation fizzing deliciously on her tongue. "Niisan?" she piped up suddenly. "Has Mamoru been by today?"

His green eyes twinkled humorously as he quirked an eyebrow at her. "No, Mamoru hasn't been by…yet."

Usagi nodded and spun on her stool to scan the arcade. Her hands were growing cold, wrapped around the glass, but she refused to turn to set it down because she could feel Motoki's presence at her back. She glanced down, looking through the soda to see her fingertips pressed against the glass, strangely distorted and discolored by the soda.

"Imouto," he spoke softly. "Why don't you just tell him?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," she replied stiffly.

"Usagi-chan, you're like a little sister to me, and I notice how you act. I'm probably the only one you let see you this way, so don't worry, it's definitely not obvious to anyone else."

"Motoki," she said warningly as she finally spun around to glare at him. Her eyes locked with his green ones.

"Aaaiii!" she yelped suddenly as someone gave her right pigtail a sharp tug. She whirled on her assailant. "Mamoru-baka!" she screeched. "Why do you have to be so annoying?"

"Well, Odango Atama—"

"Don't call me that!" she shrieked, going red in the face. She stood up, frowning upwards at him and crossing her arms.

"Well, Odango Atama," he continued coolly as he lounged against the counter, completely uncaring of the venomous glares she was sending. "What test have you failed recently?"

"Baka!" she accused stridently, uncrossing her arms. Heads turned to look at her, and she blushed furiously.

"Usagi-chan!" Ami's voice suddenly cut in as the blue-haired girl stepped between them. "Stop making scene," she ordered, laying a calming hand on Usagi's arm.

Usagi stuck her tongue out at Mamoru and then turned sulkily to join her friends at the table. They must have arrived just as Mamoru had.

The day seemed destined to be a failure. She spent hours chatting with her friends, fighting with Rei, and pigging down food, but despite her keen observation, she did not catch a single signal for a senshi meeting passing between the girls and Mamoru—who also chose to hang around them.

"Aaii!" Rei exclaimed suddenly. Usagi jumped and knocked over Makoto's soda with her elbow. Though she hated to waste Mako-chan's money, that had been just too perfectly positioned to pass up.

"Gomen nasai," she muttered apologetically as she yanked several napkins from the dispenser.

Rei stood up as though nothing had happened and haughtily flicked a strand of dark silk hair over her shoulder as she gave Usagi a disdainful glance. "It's nearly six-thirty," she announced in a cool, collected voice. "I promised Grandpa I'd be home for dinner tonight."

The other girls immediately clamored that they too had pressing engagements, and as they stood up, they exclaimed their thanks for reminding them.

"Hey!" Usagi wailed on cue. "What about me?!"

"What about you, Odango?" Mamoru's voice drawled near her ear.

She yelped, her fists clenching in her lap as she reminded herself not to leap into the fighting stance that she instinctively wanted to do when she was startled. She twisted in her seat to face him. "Baka!" she snapped. "Just because you're happy with being a friendless grouch, doesn't mean that everyone likes that. I happen to like having company!"

"Well, then why don't I keep you company? That way we both win. You get some company, and I get to spend one measly minute of my life with you when this friendless grouch could be going out with a very attractive date," he quipped.

Usagi's eyes narrowed dangerously, and she stuck out her tongue before she harrumphed and stormed away from the table. She waved goodbye to Motoki as she stomped through the sliding doors and out onto the streets, bustling with people making their way home from work.

"Hello there again," a familiar, smoky voice drawled again. A lanky arm draped over her.

Usagi's stomach did a somersault as she wriggled her way free and glared at the newcomer. She clenched her fists spasmodically.

"What are you doing here?!" she screamed, stamping her feet angrily, the impact of her shoes on the cement vibrated its way through her shinbones.

His lips quirked in a half-amused, half-annoyed grin. "You shouldn't be out on the streets alone this late," he explained with a shrug.

She screamed, she ranted, she pouted, but to no avail. He simply refused to leave her alone. Every excuse she came up with he countered easily. What about the date? A lie. What if a hurt you? That's doubtful. What if I run away? Again, doubtful. What if I scream hentai? You wouldn't; you're too nice.

That silenced her, and she finally began trudging back towards her home, Mamoru's presence warm at her side. Secretly, she was pleased, but outwardly, she glowered.

The shadows grew steadily darker as the sun finally disappeared beyond the horizon. Tokyo's streets emptied of its citizens and refilled with the tourists who congregated around the brightly lit shops and gawped at some of the more singular wares.

Usagi purposefully dragged her trip home out as long as possible often letting herself become distracted by a pastry shop. Mamoru tolerated her childish behavior, even seemed to enjoy it, and Usagi felt herself relaxing her guard. She knew it was happening; yet, she couldn't seem to stop herself. Their hostile bickering turned to friendly banter and even occasionally kindnesses, and she found herself wishing that it could always be like this.

But eventually, she could not prolong it any longer, and she led him to her apartment building. "Well, this is it," she said with a grin.

He arched his eyebrow. "Your parents have sophisticated taste," he commented as he looked over the skyscraper. "This is a pricey building."

She scuffled her feet and shrugged. "Yeah, well," she murmured ambiguously as she struggled to hide the pang on pain his offhand remark had produced.

"This was fun. I'll see you around, Odango," he added.

"Baka, don't call me that," she retorted, even as a tiny smile played around her lips.

She was never certain what caused him to turn around and peer at her, confusion and suspicion lighting in his blue-gray eyes like sunlight in water. Perhaps it was her tone of voice, her mature reaction to the hated nickname, or her newly discovered affability towards him. Or maybe, she had simply let her guard down and some of the nighttime Serenity had shown through the cracks. Either way, he turned, he stared, and he nearly spoke.

Her stomach clenched, and she whirled from his probing eyes. The curb: there was her opportunity. In two steps, she hit the curb and went tumbling over it in a seemingly uncontrolled klutz attack. Her frightened screech turned into an ear-splitting wail as she sat up. She bawled and howled, fat teardrops rolling down her cheeks and clung to her eyelashes. The dangerous moment was broken, and Mamoru rolled his eyes.

"Klutzy Odango," he teased as he gave her a hand up.

She sniffled, wiping her nose with the sleeve of her shirt—eeww, she thought inwardly—and glared daggers at him.

"Jeez, with these klutz attacks," he began before pausing and searching for the right words. "You could kill someone," he finished.

His words ricocheted inside her, and her normally calm mind exploded in a gibbering cry that she could not control. Usagi immediately froze, brittleness filling her inside, like sharp crystals of ice ready to shatter if she moved. Kill someone, his laughing voice echoed inside her skull. She gasped in a shaky breath, suddenly feeling so fragile and breakable. Kill someone. She knew her face was drained of color; she knew he was looking at her strangely, wondering about this sudden change of demeanor that had outwardly come out of nowhere, but her mind was too busy holding off memories to care.

She blurted some excuse and darted away. The elevator did not move fast enough as she paced inside the small space like a caged animal. Ding. Ding. Each ding of each floor threatened to drive her mad, and still she paced, her arms wrapped tight around her body, her face white as a corpse's. She pressed her lips together as her eyes burned with dryness. She paced, and the carpet muffled her steps. Ding. Ding. So quickly. A life can change in the time between two heartbeats. One minute smiles, another instant…this. Ding. Ding.

Finally, the elevator reached her floor, and she bolted through the doors even before they finished opening. She fumbled for the key, her fingers fumbled for the knob. Why couldn't she stop fumbling?

Her door opened so suddenly that she nearly fell inside. Regaining her balance, she slammed it shut, locked it and dashed to her bathroom. She stripped off her clothes and twisted on the shower.

Only when she was safe under the pounding hot water did she collapse bonelessly to the ground. Burying her face in her arms, she finally let herself cry. Not the wails that she faked for her friends, not even the despairing bursts she sometimes allowed herself in private. No, this was weeping that wracked her entire body and poured out her entire heart; it was like bleeding. She only let herself cry like this when she was in the shower, when the scalding water could spill over her face until her tears and the running water were indistinguishable. She didn't weep like this and for this long unless she had the shelter of the shower.

Why did she have to fall apart like this? She prided herself on her independence, her self-sufficiency, and yet, one comment could create a complete change in her, and she was left so helpless and vulnerable. This was something she couldn't fight, and that frightened her.

As the steaming hot water pounded on the back of her head and as the drain tugged at her long hair, she gave in and let the memories wash over her, carrying her back only a few, mere years.

**Next week: the mystery behind Usagi's lack of family**