Disclaimer: I don't own Sailor Moon. Sailor Moon belongs to the
almighty Naoko Takeuchi.

***

Rule #2 : If someone asks you to a dance, agree, no matter who they
are.

***

Rules of Conduct : Part II
By Mizu
email: tokiya_ensui@yahoo.com

***

I was sneaking behind a corner – well, not *sneaking* per se, but
actually – drat. I was never one for beating around the bush. Very
inefficient, you see. Degrades the character. I rolled my eyes toward
the ceiling, where the slowly, swirling fans greeted me mechanically.
I was being immature! Why would *I* need to avoid Chiba?

I'm uncomfortable with people.

I swatted the idea away, irritably. Why would *I* need to hide
from *him*? I asked myself. The idea was just...absurd!

No it isn't.

Yes it is!

Nope.

Yes!

Nuh-uh.

For your infor- I paused. I was arguing with myself. Egads! I
was going insane! This ridiculous self-argument (I bet psychologists
will get a kick out of *that* idea!) was just-just...illogical! I
pressed my forehead on the wall, feeling the chill of the surface
seeping into my skin and penetrate my bones. I shivered involuntarily,
arching my back slightly.

"Talking to the wall, again?" I heard a voice stated wryly
behind me. I stiffened. Rotating ever so slowly to give him my best,
most placid face I could muster. Despite my disapprovals of Mamoru, I
would never admit to defeat. For some odd reason, that man loved to
surprise me. Favorite hobby of the week, you see...

"No," I cupped my forehead in my palm. Pain due to the stress
was building around my sensitive temples. Closing my eyes briefly, I
swerved away from Mamoru, fully intent in getting into my car and
driving home.

To my surprise (and disgust), a firm grip took hold of my elbow,
keeping me from having a nice little meeting with the *all-so-
welcoming* floor. A gentle hand swiftly brushed away the flaxen
strands and the back of it pressed upon my forehead, as if testing my
temperature.

"Tsk, tsk, Usagi. Those late nights at the office aren't doing
you any good. Your forehead is warm," Chiba stated the obvious, taking
hold of my other arm to support me. The world seemed to rock back and
forth when I was in his grasp. The slight pounding ache at my temples
were now roaring loudly in my ear drums.

"I'm fine," I lied, trying to stabilize myself. The cursed ship
kept rocking. I wasn't one for traveling by ships. The last time I'd
got on a ship was when I was ten. A friend from school had invited me
to a birthday party that was held on a luxurious yacht. It didn't seem
like my place to be there. The ship was oddly full of rich children,
each pruned to gaudy perfection as their parents saw fit.

Needless to say, I had a horrible time. It wasn't just the fact
that I immediately ran for the medical kit when the ship glided slowly
away from dry land – and in my case, the land of living – it was the
fact that no matter how hard I would try, I did not fit in.

I spent that night hanging over the rail, my stomach rejecting
all the rich foods I had eaten earlier. Even my friend had deserted me
to entertain others. From that day on, all optimism wiped out from my
system. I realized two crucial concepts; that children were cruel and
that isolation was a harsh teacher.

"No, you're not. Usagi, you look more pale than an Egyptian
papyrus scroll!" Mamoru exclaimed, looking critically at my slack
face. He seemed to wince at my chalk white features.

I turned around to face him, fixing him with the most critical
look I could assemble with whatever was left of my rapidly depleting
strength. "Egyptian papyrus?"

He ignored my comment, which was a very rare instance. He never
ran away from the chance to spite me.

"How are you getting home?" He asked, voice oddly serious and
gruff. I reached into my purse and managed to feebly pull out a chain
of keys, one of which was my car key.

He shook his head firmly. "Give me those. I'll drive you home."
It was a blatant statement. I was ready to throw a round of insults at
him, but felt too queasy to do so.

"How are you going to get home? Wouldn't you have to come back
here for your car?" I asked pointedly.

He shook his head again, a negative. "They still need to provide
me with a car. For now, I'm just supposed to *settle in*," he
grumbled. I stifled a giggle. Apparently, they treated all
transferees the same way.

Somehow, he had coaxed me into my own car without many protests,
and drove me home. How or where he got my address, the issue was
beyond my logic capabilities at the time being. When he had finally
gone through my entire ring of keys, he tugged me inside my apartment.

"Now, you should get some sleep," he pointed out the obvious. I
was already fumbling through the hallway toward my bedroom. Once
there, I flopped painfully on the neatly made bed, instantly ruffling
the forest green sheets.

"You don't have to mother me," I mumbled, my face partially
buried in my pillow. For some odd reason, the image of Mamoru in an
apron amused my foggy mind. I grinned faintly in my pillow, eyes shut
tightly.

He sighed a great sigh; the type of sigh you would shake your
head and roll your eyes to the ceiling sigh. I felt the familiar
covers being brought up to my chin, tucking me comfortably.

It was an odd sensation. No one had ever tucked me in before.
At least, I couldn't remember the last time I was tucked in. Brushing
the thought away from my mind, I sank deeper into the yielding mattress
and let my growing fatigue overcome my senses.

"Thanks," I said softly, curling up in a ball to increase warmth.

"Sweet dreams, Usagi," I heard a faint voice murmur, soft as a
child's whisper. I forgot what happened next, for I was soon fast
asleep.

***

Notes:
Rule blurbs above courtesy of Lelu. ::glomps:: arigato! ^_^