4/6/01
The Eight-Ball
By: Lelu
Leluh16@yahoo.com
[Insert Standard Disclaimer]
A ferocious glower came over Chiba Mamoru's face as he again stared at the answer through the small black eight-ball's window. Suppressing the urge to hurl the little toy through the Fruit Parlor's large glass window, he raked his hand through his hair while continuing to glare at the not-needed answer that the object had given him.
He took a deep breath, and asked the question again.
'Do you think she loves me?' he mentally asked, then proceeded to shake the ball, a little harder than needed. Again, he fought back the urge the hurl the toy through the window, because, as usual, the answer was not positive: My reply is no.
Sighing, Mamoru slumped a bit on the counter, only to have his head whisked, if not yanked a little harshly, by Furuhata Motoki, sometime owner of the parlor. "Careful, Mamoru," the blond warned his best friend as he whipped out his dishrag from nowhere, meticulously wiping the precise spot that Mamoru's head had just been. "I just cleaned this baby today, and lord knows that the counter is tired of having your frustrations from your love life pounded onto it."
Warily, Mamoru arched an eyebrow at Motoki. "Motoki," he started, tapping his fingers on the counter, "exactly how did you manage to capture Rita?"
Motoki sighed and folded his arms neatly on top of the white, marbled counter, tucking the rag safely into his apron pocket. "Not this again, Mamoru." Looking at his friend, whose hair even seemed to droop on its own accord due to infinite sadness and moping, Motoki took pity on Mamoru. "Chiba Mamoru, I have known you for over a decade now. And not once in this happy ten years have I known you to be this depressed. Melancholy. Whatever big word you want to use. And, quite frankly, I'm sick of it."
Mamoru's icy blue eyes settled on his best friend, who seemed to draw back a bit. "Motoki, I'm asking you, earnestly, for some honest advice. Why can't you just be a friend and tell me what I want to know?"
"Well, first off, not all girls are the same-they all have different ways of wanting to be won over, wooed, if you will. As you know, Rita is an expensive girl, but because I loved her enough to want her to love me, I was willing to do whatever it took, however much money I had to spend, for her to deem me worthy enough to date and to love back. However, not all girls are expensive." Motoki looked pointedly at Mamoru then. "Some girls love compliments, not put downs that you are so eager to hand out-just to one girl, however, that I think has captured your attention." Gazing briefly across the parlor, Motoki's sights fell upon a blonde girl in the back who was playing an arcade game. "Usagi is one of those girls. And you're not going to get her to like you by insulting her at every chance you get!"
There was silence for a few minutes, as Mamoru contemplated the eight-ball in his hand again. However, it was snatched from his grasp when Motoki leaned over and grabbed it. "You are also not going to win her over by leaving it to chance and asking this damn toy questions and waiting for its answers!" Mamoru grabbed the object back and held it more tightly. "But Motoki," he said, voice serious, "you don't understand. This 'toy', as you put it, has shaped my life up to be what it is."
"And look at it, Mamoru! You look like you're happy and that everything's working for you, but I know you're not really happy! You often forget that I'm your closest friend, and that I, perhaps, know you better than you know yourself." Motoki's brown eyes bore into Mamoru. "And I know that if you could win over Usagi and make her yours, then you could be truly content with everything."
"It's not that simple though!" Mamoru denied. "It's not like I'm clinging onto my past and future with this-"
"But you are, Mamoru. That's the simple truth. Go ahead, ask your toy another question."
Mentally sighing, Mamoru looked at the object in his hand and asked out loud, "Should I attempt to ask Usagi out?" He shook the ball, and the answer appeared: Ask again later.
"See?" Mamoru said to Motoki. "This ball knows all. It _is_ me. I breathe it, live it, learn it, and love it. If I were to march over there and ask Usagi if she were interested in dating me, in even just getting to know me, she would turn me down so quickly that I probably wouldn't have even gotten a chance to ask!"
Shaking his head as though greatly disappointed in Mamoru, Motoki counteracted what Mamoru had just said. "She would turn you down not because she wasn't interested, but because she'd be scared. Think about this clearly, Mamoru-somewhere in that nearly genius-like mind you have, this must make sense." Motoki walked around the counter and sat down on the stool next to Mamoru's, trying to make him understand. "Mamoru, she would be afraid because, well, what have you done to her but tease her, insult her, and other things that we won't name? All you've done is put her down; you've shown no interest in her, romantically, whatsoever. Only I know and you know exactly how deep your feelings run for her, but you have to slowly approach her and let her know. You can't just bring this to her suddenly. You have to-"
"He has to what, Motoki?" asked a light, feminine voice.
Both Mamoru and Motoki's, in a near comical effect, eyes grew wide, and slowly they turned their heads to confirm who had spoken. 'Geh!' thought Motoki. 'Usagi!'
Usagi, dressed in a colorful, short summer dress, had her head tilted to one side, arms behind her back. Her interesting hairstyle was how it usually was worn-hair parted down the middle, then twisted into two ponytails that sat on the top of her head, golden hair streaming from the buns. Her skin was tanned from the summer sun, legs long and arms slender, large blue eyes staring innocently at the two men who could not find their voices. She was, overall, a deadly effect on any man's senses.
"He has to what?" Usagi repeated, wondering why Motoki, who was in his usual button-up shirt, khaki pants, and apron, continued to stare at her in silence. Mamoru, in a dark blue shirt that set off his beautiful eyes perfectly, she noted, was doing much the same. Self-consciously, Usagi glanced at her dress, making sure that nothing had, in the last 2 minutes, spilled on it while she was standing there. When the two men did not answer her, Usagi reached out a delicate hand to shove Motoki, who nearly fell off the stool.
"Ah, sorry, Usagi," Motoki apologized immediately, recovering himself quickly. "It's just that ... that..." he looked to Mamoru for help.
"It's just that," Mamoru said, having regained his composure after quickly berating himself mentally, "we were both noticing how garishly colored your dress is."
'Aww, damn, Mamoru,' Motoki thought, groaning, wanting to pound his head on the table. 'I gave you such a perfect chance!'
"Oh." Usagi replied, looking nonplussed. But Motoki noticed the slight trembling of her hands as she tried to hide them behind her back. "I just ... oh. Well, Mamoru, it's not like you're any better dressed," she shot back angrily, trying to defend her dress. "I mean, come on. Everyone knows that blue with black is such a fashion disaster waiting to happen. Maybe you should try to dress more classically like Motoki. Well, minus the apron," she hastily added. Before Mamoru could strike with a more vicious comment of his own, Usagi smiled and said, "Well, I have to go. Shingo wants me to take him to the zoo, and I promised I'd go home to take him. See you later, Motoki!" She turned on her heel and walked out of the parlor, quick enough so that she missed Motoki grabbing the object from Mamoru's hands and smashing it into one Chiba Mamoru's head. Then, ignoring the frigid glare of Mamoru's penetrating blue eyes, Motoki asked a question outloud. "Do you think Usagi hates Mamoru?" He shook the ball once, looked at the answer, and then handed it to Mamoru: Most likely.
-
Once outside in the sunshine, walking steadily, Usagi took a deep, trembling breath to calm her slightly frayed nerves, and all at once, everything was right in the world again. Sighing, she thought to herself, 'Well, Usagi, what else can you expect from that idiot? It's not like he'd ever pay any attention to you, other than to make fun of you...' And yet, even while she thought that, she knew that there had to be something more in Mamoru's feelings towards her. 'Maybe he could possibly...Nah.' Usagi felt herself being to blush. 'Just because you like him doesn't mean that he's going to like you back... and besides, look at him. He's so handsome and, well, beautiful. Yes, he is beautiful...And you, Usagi... well...while I'm certainly not lacking, I hope, I can't compete with those other gorgeous highschool girls.' And Usagi, suddenly morose, lost in her thoughts, continued to pace the streets of Tokyo...
Well, a street in Tokyo. Usagi, so consumed in her thoughts, did not notice that she was continuously walking between two lampposts on the street. However, Mamoru did. He had discreetly, after giving Motoki a serious, but short, lecture on how Motoki was to never smash his best friend over the head with any object, ever again. Then, he ran had run out of the parlor, trying desperately to search for Usagi. He hadn't had to search very far-he caught sight of the blond on the next street, pacing, and looking very worried.
'Well,' he thought to himself as he leaned on the wall of a building, still holding the ball, 'I might as well stay and watch. I have nothing better to do.'
And so Usagi continued to pace while Mamoru continued to watch...
'This is getting ridiculous,' Mamoru thought to himself an hour later. 'You can't be afraid to apologize to Usagi. You need to confront her and apologize, and hope that she doesn't think you're a complete ass.' So Mamoru gathered his courage, took a deep breath, and pushed himself off of the brick wall, striding completely into Usagi's path. He watched as Usagi reached one end of the street and began to march back over to the other side. And he watched as Usagi, who was still consumed in her thoughts, ran straight into him, pretty head bouncing off of his chest. Usagi, dazed, began to fall to the ground, but was immediately saved as a pair of strong arms, clothed in blue, wrapped around her waist, saving her from the skirt-eating street. The arms immediately let go as soon as Usagi had righted herself.
"Th-thank you," Usagi stuttered, fixing the straps of her dress, not bothering to look up at her savior until the thin straps had been yanked back into place. 'Wait a second,' she thought, still half-dazed. 'The shirt that the person was wearing was the same color as...' Usagi glanced up, into Mamoru's tanned face, and finished her thought, '...Mamoru's!' "You!" she exclaimed in surprise. Suddenly angered for all the trouble he had caused for her since she'd known him, Usagi began to berate him. "Why didn't you watch where you were walking, Mamoru? You're always running into me!" At his arched eyebrow, Usagi blushed and restated what she had said. "Alright, alright-so maybe most of the time I run into you, but it's not my fault that I'm usually running! At least this time, I was walking at a normal pace, and anyone could have seen where I was going to end up! And you-just to make me angry, you placed yourself directly in my path so you could have the pleasure of hurting me!" Usagi, suddenly breathless, took a step closer to Mamoru, and looked him squarely in the eye. "And what _is_ it with that stupid toy you carry around all the time?!"
'Ack! Usagi... you stupid, stupid girl! What have you done?' Suddenly ashamed of her outburst, Usagi looked away, not quite able to meet the piercing stare of the person she loved so much. The stare that, she felt, was pinning her to some invisible wall, and allowed him to see right through her. 'I should just leave before I ruin everything.' And she turned to leave.
Mamoru had quietly observed the change in Usagi's facial expression. From immediate anger to that of withdrawal. But when he saw that she was leaving, he immediately knew that his chance had come-he could practically hear Motoki cheering him on in his head. And so, once again gathering his courage, Mamoru closed his eyes and willed the words he needed so desperately to appear to be spoken. "Usagi," he began, voice low and sincere, "wait. I'm sorry."
Usagi spun around, large blue eyes showing disbelief. "_What_?" And her eyes, if possible, grew wider still as Mamoru's hand reached out to tentatively hold her own. "Mamoru?" she half-asked him, wondering if the fluttering in her chest has reached its peak yet. But when he looked at her, eyes dark with meaning, she felt her heartbeat triple.
"Usagi, I..." Mamoru nervously licked his lips, willing himself to continue and finish what he had yet to say. And just when he felt that he couldn't say anything more, he felt a gentle increase of pressure on his hand. Instantly, he looked at Usagi who flushed under his intense gaze and looked away.
It was a sign for him to continue. A sign of support for what she was hoping he would say.
"Usagi, I'm sorry. I never meant for the teasing to get as out of hand as it did. There was just something about you that I couldn't figure out that made me feel the need to talk to you-but I figured that the only way I could get you to talk to me, to notice me, was to, well, ridicule you. And while I knew it was wrong," he quickly continued, flinching at how she stiffened, "I continued to do it because... because I liked talking to you. I realize now that I could have found a better way to have tried to talk to you, Usagi."
Usagi looked up at him again, noticing how earnest and honest he sounded now. Almost as though he were desperate to explain himself and his reasons to her.
"I don't know why I acted so immature... well, actually, yes. I do know why." Mamoru forced himself to look at Usagi. "It's because I like you." He heard her gasp and tried to finish what he had to say before she had time to react. "And it's because I think that I'm falling in love with you." He stopped, then, giving her time to absorb what he just revealed.
"..._what_?!" Usagi was panicking all of a sudden and she had, without noticing, withdrawn her hand from Mamoru's. "Mamoru!" She felt flustered and nervous and excited all at once, and she didn't know what to do.
Mamoru, however, did.
Leaning over, he gently placed his mouth on Usagi's and kissed her once, before drawing back and looking into her expressive, clear eyes. And what he saw nearly took his breath away.
She was crying. Little tears, her mouth trembling, shocked.
'Mamoru,' he grimly thought to himself, taking a few steps back, 'you've really done it this time.'
Usagi knew instinctively what Mamoru was thinking; she didn't want him to leave her. Not when he had just said everything that she wish she had enough courage to say. Not when he felt exactly the same way she did. "Wait, Mamoru," Usagi said to him, tears spilling down her cheeks. "It's not that I'm sad or angry or upset, so don't think that..."
Turning so that Usagi couldn't see what he was about to do, Mamoru quietly asked to his almost-forgotten magic eight-ball-
"Mamoru?"
Mamoru faced Usagi again, hiding the eight-ball behind his back. 'She looks beautiful...even with those tears...'
"I really don't know what to say to you, Mamoru," Usagi said hesitantly, wiping away the tears that still formed. "Half of me thinks this is a joke-"
"It's not a joke," Mamoru firmly stated, if not a bit painfully. "And I'm sorry that I've made you think that poorly of me, but I-"
"You didn't let me finish," Usagi said, nervously smoothing down her skirt, shivering at the slight chill that seemed to overtake her body. "Half of me thinks this is a joke... while the other half is hoping that you're telling the truth... and that somehow..." she took a few steps closer to Mamoru, "you really are starting to love me." Her hands trembled violently as she reached up to touch his face. "But if you are telling the truth, I want you to know that I like you, too." She smiled beautifully, only for him. "Maybe, even falling in love with you." Suddenly, Usagi found herself in Mamoru's tight embrace, and she held onto him.
"Usagi," Mamoru whispered hoarsely-strands of gold were surrounding him, everywhere.
Closing her eyes and letting herself fall into his embrace, Usagi found her voice, which she was almost sure had completely disappeared. "Mamoru, I know exactly how you felt when you were describing yourself to me. Why you continued to taunt me. I continued to tease you because I felt exactly the same way you did, and I didn't know what to do, or how to catch your attention, either. I mean, there I was, some silly girl who had started to like someone...but that someone wouldn't give me the time of day, only to push me around-literally!. No, don't apologize again, Mamoru." She giggled quietly, kissing him on the cheek softly. "If only we hadn't of been so stupid..." She pulled back a little to look kindly into his eyes. "And if you hadn't of listened to that stupid toy of yours that I know you're holding onto as you're holding me."
Mamoru chuckled, feeling so dizzily happy and content that he could barely contain himself. He unwrapped his arms from her waist and brought the object to eye-level with her. "Usagi," Mamoru said, running his hand through his hair, "I only have two more questions to ask to this 'toy,' and one of them is directed more towards you. Will you let me?"
Usagi nodded, the sunlight catching a few of her golden strands and making her eyes sparkle. Mamoru sucked in a deep breath before asking, if not a bit haltingly, his first question: "If we are beginning to love each other, which I think we do," he winked at Usagi, "will our love determine our future?" He shook the ball, looked at the answer, and with a smile, presented it for Usagi's inspection: Without a doubt.
Biting back laughter, Usagi neatly tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear, all the while smiling at Mamoru who was watching her curiously. "I could have told you the answer to that one, Mamoru. Maybe you should ask me, instead."
"And I will," Mamoru promised, blue eyes flashing playfully, "as soon as I ask one last question... and it's for you-Usagi, will you go out with me?"
Usagi could barely contain her delight as she plucked the toy from his hands Shaking it once, she looked at the answer, smiled, and handed it back to him: Yes.
The Eight-Ball
By: Lelu
Leluh16@yahoo.com
[Insert Standard Disclaimer]
A ferocious glower came over Chiba Mamoru's face as he again stared at the answer through the small black eight-ball's window. Suppressing the urge to hurl the little toy through the Fruit Parlor's large glass window, he raked his hand through his hair while continuing to glare at the not-needed answer that the object had given him.
He took a deep breath, and asked the question again.
'Do you think she loves me?' he mentally asked, then proceeded to shake the ball, a little harder than needed. Again, he fought back the urge the hurl the toy through the window, because, as usual, the answer was not positive: My reply is no.
Sighing, Mamoru slumped a bit on the counter, only to have his head whisked, if not yanked a little harshly, by Furuhata Motoki, sometime owner of the parlor. "Careful, Mamoru," the blond warned his best friend as he whipped out his dishrag from nowhere, meticulously wiping the precise spot that Mamoru's head had just been. "I just cleaned this baby today, and lord knows that the counter is tired of having your frustrations from your love life pounded onto it."
Warily, Mamoru arched an eyebrow at Motoki. "Motoki," he started, tapping his fingers on the counter, "exactly how did you manage to capture Rita?"
Motoki sighed and folded his arms neatly on top of the white, marbled counter, tucking the rag safely into his apron pocket. "Not this again, Mamoru." Looking at his friend, whose hair even seemed to droop on its own accord due to infinite sadness and moping, Motoki took pity on Mamoru. "Chiba Mamoru, I have known you for over a decade now. And not once in this happy ten years have I known you to be this depressed. Melancholy. Whatever big word you want to use. And, quite frankly, I'm sick of it."
Mamoru's icy blue eyes settled on his best friend, who seemed to draw back a bit. "Motoki, I'm asking you, earnestly, for some honest advice. Why can't you just be a friend and tell me what I want to know?"
"Well, first off, not all girls are the same-they all have different ways of wanting to be won over, wooed, if you will. As you know, Rita is an expensive girl, but because I loved her enough to want her to love me, I was willing to do whatever it took, however much money I had to spend, for her to deem me worthy enough to date and to love back. However, not all girls are expensive." Motoki looked pointedly at Mamoru then. "Some girls love compliments, not put downs that you are so eager to hand out-just to one girl, however, that I think has captured your attention." Gazing briefly across the parlor, Motoki's sights fell upon a blonde girl in the back who was playing an arcade game. "Usagi is one of those girls. And you're not going to get her to like you by insulting her at every chance you get!"
There was silence for a few minutes, as Mamoru contemplated the eight-ball in his hand again. However, it was snatched from his grasp when Motoki leaned over and grabbed it. "You are also not going to win her over by leaving it to chance and asking this damn toy questions and waiting for its answers!" Mamoru grabbed the object back and held it more tightly. "But Motoki," he said, voice serious, "you don't understand. This 'toy', as you put it, has shaped my life up to be what it is."
"And look at it, Mamoru! You look like you're happy and that everything's working for you, but I know you're not really happy! You often forget that I'm your closest friend, and that I, perhaps, know you better than you know yourself." Motoki's brown eyes bore into Mamoru. "And I know that if you could win over Usagi and make her yours, then you could be truly content with everything."
"It's not that simple though!" Mamoru denied. "It's not like I'm clinging onto my past and future with this-"
"But you are, Mamoru. That's the simple truth. Go ahead, ask your toy another question."
Mentally sighing, Mamoru looked at the object in his hand and asked out loud, "Should I attempt to ask Usagi out?" He shook the ball, and the answer appeared: Ask again later.
"See?" Mamoru said to Motoki. "This ball knows all. It _is_ me. I breathe it, live it, learn it, and love it. If I were to march over there and ask Usagi if she were interested in dating me, in even just getting to know me, she would turn me down so quickly that I probably wouldn't have even gotten a chance to ask!"
Shaking his head as though greatly disappointed in Mamoru, Motoki counteracted what Mamoru had just said. "She would turn you down not because she wasn't interested, but because she'd be scared. Think about this clearly, Mamoru-somewhere in that nearly genius-like mind you have, this must make sense." Motoki walked around the counter and sat down on the stool next to Mamoru's, trying to make him understand. "Mamoru, she would be afraid because, well, what have you done to her but tease her, insult her, and other things that we won't name? All you've done is put her down; you've shown no interest in her, romantically, whatsoever. Only I know and you know exactly how deep your feelings run for her, but you have to slowly approach her and let her know. You can't just bring this to her suddenly. You have to-"
"He has to what, Motoki?" asked a light, feminine voice.
Both Mamoru and Motoki's, in a near comical effect, eyes grew wide, and slowly they turned their heads to confirm who had spoken. 'Geh!' thought Motoki. 'Usagi!'
Usagi, dressed in a colorful, short summer dress, had her head tilted to one side, arms behind her back. Her interesting hairstyle was how it usually was worn-hair parted down the middle, then twisted into two ponytails that sat on the top of her head, golden hair streaming from the buns. Her skin was tanned from the summer sun, legs long and arms slender, large blue eyes staring innocently at the two men who could not find their voices. She was, overall, a deadly effect on any man's senses.
"He has to what?" Usagi repeated, wondering why Motoki, who was in his usual button-up shirt, khaki pants, and apron, continued to stare at her in silence. Mamoru, in a dark blue shirt that set off his beautiful eyes perfectly, she noted, was doing much the same. Self-consciously, Usagi glanced at her dress, making sure that nothing had, in the last 2 minutes, spilled on it while she was standing there. When the two men did not answer her, Usagi reached out a delicate hand to shove Motoki, who nearly fell off the stool.
"Ah, sorry, Usagi," Motoki apologized immediately, recovering himself quickly. "It's just that ... that..." he looked to Mamoru for help.
"It's just that," Mamoru said, having regained his composure after quickly berating himself mentally, "we were both noticing how garishly colored your dress is."
'Aww, damn, Mamoru,' Motoki thought, groaning, wanting to pound his head on the table. 'I gave you such a perfect chance!'
"Oh." Usagi replied, looking nonplussed. But Motoki noticed the slight trembling of her hands as she tried to hide them behind her back. "I just ... oh. Well, Mamoru, it's not like you're any better dressed," she shot back angrily, trying to defend her dress. "I mean, come on. Everyone knows that blue with black is such a fashion disaster waiting to happen. Maybe you should try to dress more classically like Motoki. Well, minus the apron," she hastily added. Before Mamoru could strike with a more vicious comment of his own, Usagi smiled and said, "Well, I have to go. Shingo wants me to take him to the zoo, and I promised I'd go home to take him. See you later, Motoki!" She turned on her heel and walked out of the parlor, quick enough so that she missed Motoki grabbing the object from Mamoru's hands and smashing it into one Chiba Mamoru's head. Then, ignoring the frigid glare of Mamoru's penetrating blue eyes, Motoki asked a question outloud. "Do you think Usagi hates Mamoru?" He shook the ball once, looked at the answer, and then handed it to Mamoru: Most likely.
-
Once outside in the sunshine, walking steadily, Usagi took a deep, trembling breath to calm her slightly frayed nerves, and all at once, everything was right in the world again. Sighing, she thought to herself, 'Well, Usagi, what else can you expect from that idiot? It's not like he'd ever pay any attention to you, other than to make fun of you...' And yet, even while she thought that, she knew that there had to be something more in Mamoru's feelings towards her. 'Maybe he could possibly...Nah.' Usagi felt herself being to blush. 'Just because you like him doesn't mean that he's going to like you back... and besides, look at him. He's so handsome and, well, beautiful. Yes, he is beautiful...And you, Usagi... well...while I'm certainly not lacking, I hope, I can't compete with those other gorgeous highschool girls.' And Usagi, suddenly morose, lost in her thoughts, continued to pace the streets of Tokyo...
Well, a street in Tokyo. Usagi, so consumed in her thoughts, did not notice that she was continuously walking between two lampposts on the street. However, Mamoru did. He had discreetly, after giving Motoki a serious, but short, lecture on how Motoki was to never smash his best friend over the head with any object, ever again. Then, he ran had run out of the parlor, trying desperately to search for Usagi. He hadn't had to search very far-he caught sight of the blond on the next street, pacing, and looking very worried.
'Well,' he thought to himself as he leaned on the wall of a building, still holding the ball, 'I might as well stay and watch. I have nothing better to do.'
And so Usagi continued to pace while Mamoru continued to watch...
'This is getting ridiculous,' Mamoru thought to himself an hour later. 'You can't be afraid to apologize to Usagi. You need to confront her and apologize, and hope that she doesn't think you're a complete ass.' So Mamoru gathered his courage, took a deep breath, and pushed himself off of the brick wall, striding completely into Usagi's path. He watched as Usagi reached one end of the street and began to march back over to the other side. And he watched as Usagi, who was still consumed in her thoughts, ran straight into him, pretty head bouncing off of his chest. Usagi, dazed, began to fall to the ground, but was immediately saved as a pair of strong arms, clothed in blue, wrapped around her waist, saving her from the skirt-eating street. The arms immediately let go as soon as Usagi had righted herself.
"Th-thank you," Usagi stuttered, fixing the straps of her dress, not bothering to look up at her savior until the thin straps had been yanked back into place. 'Wait a second,' she thought, still half-dazed. 'The shirt that the person was wearing was the same color as...' Usagi glanced up, into Mamoru's tanned face, and finished her thought, '...Mamoru's!' "You!" she exclaimed in surprise. Suddenly angered for all the trouble he had caused for her since she'd known him, Usagi began to berate him. "Why didn't you watch where you were walking, Mamoru? You're always running into me!" At his arched eyebrow, Usagi blushed and restated what she had said. "Alright, alright-so maybe most of the time I run into you, but it's not my fault that I'm usually running! At least this time, I was walking at a normal pace, and anyone could have seen where I was going to end up! And you-just to make me angry, you placed yourself directly in my path so you could have the pleasure of hurting me!" Usagi, suddenly breathless, took a step closer to Mamoru, and looked him squarely in the eye. "And what _is_ it with that stupid toy you carry around all the time?!"
'Ack! Usagi... you stupid, stupid girl! What have you done?' Suddenly ashamed of her outburst, Usagi looked away, not quite able to meet the piercing stare of the person she loved so much. The stare that, she felt, was pinning her to some invisible wall, and allowed him to see right through her. 'I should just leave before I ruin everything.' And she turned to leave.
Mamoru had quietly observed the change in Usagi's facial expression. From immediate anger to that of withdrawal. But when he saw that she was leaving, he immediately knew that his chance had come-he could practically hear Motoki cheering him on in his head. And so, once again gathering his courage, Mamoru closed his eyes and willed the words he needed so desperately to appear to be spoken. "Usagi," he began, voice low and sincere, "wait. I'm sorry."
Usagi spun around, large blue eyes showing disbelief. "_What_?" And her eyes, if possible, grew wider still as Mamoru's hand reached out to tentatively hold her own. "Mamoru?" she half-asked him, wondering if the fluttering in her chest has reached its peak yet. But when he looked at her, eyes dark with meaning, she felt her heartbeat triple.
"Usagi, I..." Mamoru nervously licked his lips, willing himself to continue and finish what he had yet to say. And just when he felt that he couldn't say anything more, he felt a gentle increase of pressure on his hand. Instantly, he looked at Usagi who flushed under his intense gaze and looked away.
It was a sign for him to continue. A sign of support for what she was hoping he would say.
"Usagi, I'm sorry. I never meant for the teasing to get as out of hand as it did. There was just something about you that I couldn't figure out that made me feel the need to talk to you-but I figured that the only way I could get you to talk to me, to notice me, was to, well, ridicule you. And while I knew it was wrong," he quickly continued, flinching at how she stiffened, "I continued to do it because... because I liked talking to you. I realize now that I could have found a better way to have tried to talk to you, Usagi."
Usagi looked up at him again, noticing how earnest and honest he sounded now. Almost as though he were desperate to explain himself and his reasons to her.
"I don't know why I acted so immature... well, actually, yes. I do know why." Mamoru forced himself to look at Usagi. "It's because I like you." He heard her gasp and tried to finish what he had to say before she had time to react. "And it's because I think that I'm falling in love with you." He stopped, then, giving her time to absorb what he just revealed.
"..._what_?!" Usagi was panicking all of a sudden and she had, without noticing, withdrawn her hand from Mamoru's. "Mamoru!" She felt flustered and nervous and excited all at once, and she didn't know what to do.
Mamoru, however, did.
Leaning over, he gently placed his mouth on Usagi's and kissed her once, before drawing back and looking into her expressive, clear eyes. And what he saw nearly took his breath away.
She was crying. Little tears, her mouth trembling, shocked.
'Mamoru,' he grimly thought to himself, taking a few steps back, 'you've really done it this time.'
Usagi knew instinctively what Mamoru was thinking; she didn't want him to leave her. Not when he had just said everything that she wish she had enough courage to say. Not when he felt exactly the same way she did. "Wait, Mamoru," Usagi said to him, tears spilling down her cheeks. "It's not that I'm sad or angry or upset, so don't think that..."
Turning so that Usagi couldn't see what he was about to do, Mamoru quietly asked to his almost-forgotten magic eight-ball-
"Mamoru?"
Mamoru faced Usagi again, hiding the eight-ball behind his back. 'She looks beautiful...even with those tears...'
"I really don't know what to say to you, Mamoru," Usagi said hesitantly, wiping away the tears that still formed. "Half of me thinks this is a joke-"
"It's not a joke," Mamoru firmly stated, if not a bit painfully. "And I'm sorry that I've made you think that poorly of me, but I-"
"You didn't let me finish," Usagi said, nervously smoothing down her skirt, shivering at the slight chill that seemed to overtake her body. "Half of me thinks this is a joke... while the other half is hoping that you're telling the truth... and that somehow..." she took a few steps closer to Mamoru, "you really are starting to love me." Her hands trembled violently as she reached up to touch his face. "But if you are telling the truth, I want you to know that I like you, too." She smiled beautifully, only for him. "Maybe, even falling in love with you." Suddenly, Usagi found herself in Mamoru's tight embrace, and she held onto him.
"Usagi," Mamoru whispered hoarsely-strands of gold were surrounding him, everywhere.
Closing her eyes and letting herself fall into his embrace, Usagi found her voice, which she was almost sure had completely disappeared. "Mamoru, I know exactly how you felt when you were describing yourself to me. Why you continued to taunt me. I continued to tease you because I felt exactly the same way you did, and I didn't know what to do, or how to catch your attention, either. I mean, there I was, some silly girl who had started to like someone...but that someone wouldn't give me the time of day, only to push me around-literally!. No, don't apologize again, Mamoru." She giggled quietly, kissing him on the cheek softly. "If only we hadn't of been so stupid..." She pulled back a little to look kindly into his eyes. "And if you hadn't of listened to that stupid toy of yours that I know you're holding onto as you're holding me."
Mamoru chuckled, feeling so dizzily happy and content that he could barely contain himself. He unwrapped his arms from her waist and brought the object to eye-level with her. "Usagi," Mamoru said, running his hand through his hair, "I only have two more questions to ask to this 'toy,' and one of them is directed more towards you. Will you let me?"
Usagi nodded, the sunlight catching a few of her golden strands and making her eyes sparkle. Mamoru sucked in a deep breath before asking, if not a bit haltingly, his first question: "If we are beginning to love each other, which I think we do," he winked at Usagi, "will our love determine our future?" He shook the ball, looked at the answer, and with a smile, presented it for Usagi's inspection: Without a doubt.
Biting back laughter, Usagi neatly tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear, all the while smiling at Mamoru who was watching her curiously. "I could have told you the answer to that one, Mamoru. Maybe you should ask me, instead."
"And I will," Mamoru promised, blue eyes flashing playfully, "as soon as I ask one last question... and it's for you-Usagi, will you go out with me?"
Usagi could barely contain her delight as she plucked the toy from his hands Shaking it once, she looked at the answer, smiled, and handed it back to him: Yes.