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

***

Rule #3 : If you're dressing up for a prince, make sure he's ready
first.


***

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

***

In the next few weeks, I saw Mamoru very often. I had even
gotten accustomed to his crude remarks after a month or so. Often
times, he would drag me out of my desk during lunch hours to a decent
restaurant, claiming that I needed to eat a 'well balanced meal'. What
was so unbalanced about delivery? Needless to say, I complied with his
little wishes, just to make him content. A content Mamoru was far
better than an irate Mamoru. I'd never seen him angry, but I've seen
him annoyed. That was more than enough to keep away from unexplored
territory.

It was one such lunch time that Mamoru brought up the horrid
topic I had been avoiding all week.

"They're holding a charity ball and all the major corporate
employees have been invited," he commented casually, scooping a small
amount of rice into his mouth. He chewed thoughtfully, bamboo
chopsticks firmly grasped in one hand.

Rule number one: beware of Mamoru when he looks thoughtful. It
usually means he's up to something devious. Not that would be a
surprise, of course. It was quite expected of him.

"Uh-huh..." My eyes never broke away from the flat screen before
me. My best friend away from my office: my lap top. Who said you
couldn't buy friends with money? Albeit, they weren't organic,
breathing, hominids... As much as Mamoru wheedled, he could not get
the machine away from my death grip. "Your point being?" I continued,
ignoring the bowl of rice set before the table by the stocky waiter,
spotless cloth draped over one arm.

"Seeing that you never attend to these events—"

"—and never will..."

He continued on regardless. Typical of him.

"I'd thought it might be a good idea to get you a social life."
Well, since he put it so bluntly...

"No."

"Why not?" He squawked, not comprehending. Actually, I think he
did, he just didn't want to admit it. Damn ego. It was just as bad as
mine. I wouldn't fault him for doing so, since the act alone would
condemn me to hypocrisy.

"Because," I answered crisply, pushing away my bowl to make more
room for my organized, plastic companion. It wasn't really an answer,
but Mamoru should've figured that it was a sufficient response from me.
Anyway, I was in no mood to 'socialize'. It wasn't one of my hobbies.
Truth be told, I've spent most of my life alone, fending for myself
against the cruelties of the outside world. From a young age, I was
exposed to scarier things than the creature living underneath my bed.
One such concept was the idea of reality. In truth, I think that no
child should have their make-belief world and shelter be ripped from
their lifestyle. God forbid, they might end up like me – or worse,
like Chiba! My mind boggled at the thought of it!

He too, had lost his parents from a young age. Poor laddie, he
used to pent himself up in his own room, hidden in the shadows behind a
potted plant in the orphanage. That was where I'd met him. He was in
MY corner, the corner that I had claimed for myself during rainy
seasons. As a result, our arguments started at the sprouting age of
four. However, as the years past, we eventually tolerated each other,
and eventually, grudgingly declared a cease fire.

"But *why*?" He wheedled, much like a child would for sweets
before supper time. He flashed his most handsome smile at me, all
pearly whites shining dazzlingly. HE of ALL people should've known
that that would've done him as much good as a boulder would've.

"Not working..." I muttered above the comforting hum of my
notebook, and kept on typing, regardless of his efforts.

"Please?"

"No."

"With sugar on top?"

"No way."

"Cherries and—"

Exasperated, I paused mid-sentence in the report that I was
composing. "You just want me to come because you don't have a date," I
said dryly, pointing out the truth for all it was. He frowned for a
moment before answering.

"How'd you guess?" He looked perplexed, taking the glasses off
the bridge of his nose and hooking them in his designer coat pocket.
He lapsed back into those rare serious tones, finally drawing my
attention away from my work.

I shrugged in reply and gave him my most charming Tsukino Usagi
smile that made every other man on the street melt, or so I've heard
from my distant cousin, Aino Minako. Now why didn't he go out with
her? She was certainly more glamorous, more charming and more
beautiful than I...

"Minako might be a better choice," I suggested, eyes turning back
to my computer screen, dutifully adding in my references to my
footnotes. Oddly, my mind wasn't fully focused on the task at hand.
Rather, it was straying to only kami-sama knows where, in particular,
Mamoru's request.

"She's a beautiful girl, with a pleasant personality," I
continued, ignoring that odd hunch in the back of my mind. Why should
I care about a charity event? Let alone my social life? Or worse off,
Chiba's?!

He didn't answer. In fact, he didn't even bother to comment.
How odd... Silent Chiba's are hard to come by these days.

"Besides, she's a far better companion than I would ever be," I
babbled on, fixing my eyes on the glare-proof flat screen. I let my
lips curve up in a small grin. "Besides, you might be able to make
something out of it after," a rare girlish giggle escaping my lips,
which quickly ended in a yelp as the notebook was bent in double. My
annoyed stare traveled from my barely grazed digits to the fingers
resting upon the dark casing of the notebook. Now why would he do a
baka-ish thing like that? However, I was shaken out of my irritated
mood by the penetrating stare due across the table, or, me. I matched
him look for look, my challenging spirit raging against his.

He finally broke the long-held gaze, looking at me through hooded
eyes. An oddly cheery grin broke free of the serious mask he bore.

"It's okay, I understand."

Then he was gone... Only a few wadded up paper bills and
tarnished coins the only evidence that he had occupied that space for a
full hour and a half.

***

I was heading toward the bathroom to do my business as usual,
brushing past the occasional multitasking employee running for
photocopies, phone calls and whatnot. Through the latter part of the
day, I was mulling over Chiba's request, and why he would ask me.
Logic, of course, could make no sense of the absurd idea, and thus,
neither did I.

I paused mid-hall to open my purse, fishing for a tube of
lipstick. The last time, the slippery plastic cylinder slipped from my
grasp and rolled under a locked stall. I knew better than to engage
myself in another wild goose chase with misbehaving cosmetics on the
floor of an office washroom.

"Ohohohoho!" I heard the loud, boisterous laugh of some men in
the male washrooms, which was conveniently placed beside the female's
restrooms to efficiently use the sewage utilities hooked up to the
building. Still digging around my purse for my lipstick, I shook my
head, ignoring the chattering emerging from the men's room.

"Chiba will never find a date on time! I told you he was a
wimp!" One tenor voiced his opinion. I arched my eyebrow, the classic
Tsukino sarcasm painfully etched across my face.

"Sissy!" Another jeered, followed by loud, rapturous laughing.
I cringed inwardly, the word, ingrate, running through my cramped mind.
Egads, these people were acting with as if they had the personalities
of two year olds! And even THEN, the little tykes would outmatch them
in a maturity contest!

"Aino-san's already going out with me! And just about every
other woman has already hooked up with a date! He'll never find an
eligible woman now!" Another shouted, a chorus of laughs promptly
following the statement once again. Man, this was starting to sound
like Prince Charming looking for his Cinderella...

Then it hit me, why Chiba was asking me out. Obviously Minako
had already agreed to go out with that bloating blowfish of a man in
the restroom. Of course, Chiba had no other choice, but to ask me!
The sky was blue and the sun rose from the east side! Or, in other
words, it made sense now!

I refrained myself from patting myself on the back, or from doing
one of Chiba's infectious jigs.

"The only woman left is that old hag upstairs!" The first voice
I heard had spoken again.

Old hag? Who's the old hag? I scooted myself closer to the door
frame, attempting to catch the errant sound that escaped between the
thin crevices at the hinges and door bottoms.

"Who?" Came the inquiry of man #2.

Yes, who indeed...

"That Tsukino woman!" Man #3 blurted out callously, "Hey, isn't
she related to Aino-san? Who cares anyway, that woman—if she IS one—
has the grace of donkey!" More raucous laughter ensued this particular
comment.

NANI?!!!

A string of vehement curses were uttered in the laughter and din
within the restroom, and when I had exhausted my vocabulary of insults,
I began inventing new ones. I barely held myself from kept myself from
snapping the silken thread of my patience into two and show them
exactly what this 'Old Hag' could do.

(Now that I look back on that event, I should have. Would've
been great fun...)

We'll see what this old hag is capable of...

***

The charity ball was tomorrow night, as I gladly slipped off the
black pumps and ran into my shower for a quick cleansing. The steam
proved to be somewhat of a hassle, as I was forced to fix my hair in
oval mirror above my genuine oak drawers. Squinting at my foggy
reflection and attempting to pin up my hair would be a bother anyway.

After what seemed like eons, my hair was suitably dried, and
pinned into an elaborate bun that I normally wore for fancy conventions
where there was no escape within a ten-mile radius. The ends, which
normally suffered from a condition called 'frizziness', were arranged
neatly in waves, with a suitable amount of 'peach sensation' mousse.
Normally, I wouldn't buy cheap, synthetic, and what I deemed to be a
health hazard scented products, however, I was fooled by their crafty
advertisements.

And just for the record, peaches are my favorite fruit.

When my hair was arranged according to my standards, I opened my
closet. Hanging on the door, a silky, pale, chrysanthemum-embroidered
Chinese-style button down stared marvelously back at me. Folds fell
upon folds like smooth liquor rolling on your tongue.

Snipping the dangling price tag from the elegant dress I had
bought last week, promptly after that episode in the men's restroom, I
slipped on the garment, reveling in its silk smoothness. The skirt
seemed moderately straight, falling unceremoniously to the ground like
a fountain of water. However, when I walked, it fanned out charmingly,
the heavenly fabric whispering as I walked around my room.

Fixing the last ivory-lined button, I took one last look at the
mirror to confirm my appearance.

Ready, set, ACTION! Watch out, old hag coming your way!
I let out a supremely evil chuckle, while shutting the door
quietly behind me.

***

As I figured, Chiba was staying home that night, cradling his
frail male ego. I winced. Oooh, they really rubbed the issue into
him, didn't they?

Soon, I found myself glowering at nothing in particular in front
of me.

"Ingrates," I muttered quietly under my breath, my fingers
fumbling the crevice between the doorframe and wall for the bell. An
answering ring confirmed my search as a success, as I heard shuffling
and objects being moved within.

"Hai?" Came one bleary eye, door opening quarter-way. Mamoru's
tousled hair draped messily over his eyes, distorting his vision. He
raked his fingers through his midnight hair to compensate for the
disadvantage, rubbing his eyes with his other hand.

He blinked.

"Usagi?" He croaked unbelievingly. "What are you doing here?"
As if on cue, he looked me over from head to toe, and back again, awe
seeming to light upon his haggard features.

"What are you doing here?" He uttered slowly, gaping at me.

"I'm here to save your sorely depleted ego, you big baka!"

He blinked rapidly a few times, then continued gaping at me
without regard. And here I thought Chiba had manners...

"Well, aren't you going to let me in?" I said impatiently,
letting out a short, clipped sigh. Mutely, he opened the door wider,
stepping aside to let me in. I took one step into the apartment and
froze dead at the doormat.

The place was an absolute mess! How could someone live in a
pigsty like this?! The room was in such a horrid state! There was a
trail of clear space leading to the couch, where a square glass of
half-finished brandy laid out in the open. I assumed that he had moved
these obstructions in the way to answer the door.

Swiveling, I drank in the sight of what must have been the
complete opposite of my neat office, hundreds of critical comments
coming to mind. It was in the midst of my disapproving glare did I see
a cellophane-wrapped garment hanging neatly, contrasting amongst the
mess.

It was a formal suit, probably tailored to fit Chiba like a
glove. The black bow-tie was unraveled, hanging around the collar,
slightly askew. Gingerly, I took the small article through the clear,
wispy wrapping, and straightened it as best as I could. I stared at it
for some time before Chiba's voice roused me from my daze.

"Umm, Usagi? What are you doing here?" He repeated the
question, attempting to draw an answer from me. He looked somewhat
neater now after fixing his hair, as he would present himself in the
office. I gave him my famous purposeful face, so full of ambition that
it would've frightened the heebie jeebies out of a normal person.

I knew since we were kids that Chiba wasn't normal. If anything,
he was so abnormal that it seemed normal. Then again, that's my
opinion of him.

"What are you standing around for, Chiba?! You've got a charity
ball to attend! Are you going to embarrass me in front of all the
other employees?" I barked out orders like a military captain, the
focused glint-in-the-eye ever so present.

You know, I could've sworn a mischievous grin spreading across
his face as I scooted him off to his room to prepare. If anything, I
think he was going to enjoy this as much as I was going to.

***

Notes:
mercenary editor of the week : The Rose Society (Arigato!)
Rule blurbs above courtesy of Lelu. ::glomps:: arigato! ^_^
April 20/01