Wow ... looks like I actually updated it. Shocking, no? Still in a state of depression due to Kenshin. *grrr*

Disclaimer: As long as impersonating manga artists is against the law, I don't own Sailor Moon or Gundam Wing. But the day that law is removed ... watch out. ^^

A big thank you to Serenity-Moon for bestowing the framework of this chapter to me. All I did was expand, add adjectives, and alter the ending a bit. Thank you for your wonderful inspiration that has led me out of the dungeon of writer's block (for now) and into the real world again ... yeah. ^^ Also thanks for editing as well ... really, I ask too much of you. ^_~

Several big thanks to my wonderful editors who remained ever so faithful through the bogs of grammar mistakes, the rapids of misused punctuation marks, and even the steep slopes of "ineloquence". This chapter was pretty pathetic without you guys ... trust me, I'd know. ^^ Thanks to Autumn Hime, Serenity Moon (not the previously mentioned Serenity-Moon), Usagi Asia Maxwell, and DevilsDarling. Check their fics out! I think they're all here at fanfiction.net by now...

Saa ... here we go. Let's see how many mistakes you can catch! ^^'''

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The 'Let's see how much food can fit into our stomachs' session began with a lurch and ended efficiently, with a screeching of the tires. The food had disappeared, all shoved down the remarkably wide mouth of a slender twenty-two year old; the plates were sparkling and carefully formed in the shape of the leaning tower of Pisa. Except this tower of Pisa was beyond a reasonable doubt defying gravity.

Usagi allowed Hiiro a few minutes of awed silence before perking up and chirping, serious expression at hand, "Can we go for dessert?"

This instantly warranted an extravagant show. Unlike herself, the health-conscious policeman had ordered a tasteless glass of iced water, and that "healthy" water succeeded in causing him to choke.

He raised an arching eyebrow at her. "You're still hungry? Do you have a bottomless pit for a stomach or something?"

She allowed a small smile to settle on her face when the realization that what she had just seen had been an endangered or even new facial expression hit home.

Not a beat off, her face molded itself into a pout, and she whined, "But I want dessert!", blinking a handful of times after hearing herself. Since when had she traveled back in time by twelve years? Heck, not even ten-year-olds would beg like she just did.

But ... something about the security of the restaurant, the rushing shoppers, whining husbands, animated children, and laughing mothers that brought out, literally, the child in her. The still snowing lavender sky aided this effect for this was, as she would like to term it, "happy snow". She had been through too many years of "lonely snow" or even "no time for snow". And all these scores of mood changes owing to someone who was escorting her to her death? She must be going crazy.

He countered her plea with an effortless smirk, this twisting of the face much more accustomed to. "This is coming out of my wallet, you know," he said, not sure whether or not that was intended to be a joke.

She smiled halfheartedly at the remark before looking down at her own entwined fingers, feeling a lump gather at her throat but then swiftly pushing it back down. She only allowed herself half a minute of blubbering annually and that was used up the previous night. Moreover, she certainly wouldn't know what to do if they started cascading down, having only gathered eleven minutes of tears in her life. And from the look of the man opposite of her, he wouldn't know how to deal with them either.

Decisively, she teased, "After all, before I go to whatever death Treize prepared for me, I'd like to have an entire meal with the person who finally caught up with me." The joke faltered and ended unconvincingly, sputtering delicately and twisting with sarcasm.

"Fine, lets go," Hiiro declared in monotone while getting up. It was times like these that caused him to shy away from emotions. Because, frankly, emotions stung and pricked at the chinks in one's armor, and while he wasn't wholly sterile of them, he was able to minimize them to a humming in the background.

Their evaporating in the back of his mind was now a regular habit. He had gotten used to his brain not triggering the usual effects to something touching, or tender, or funny. Perhaps ... perhaps too used to let go.

She's going to die. She's going to die, and he'll never be able to indulge in her smile or suffer the mayhem she caused again. So ... why was he willing to have a decent conversation with her? Why was he tagging along with her whims and tolerating her towing him about when he'll simply lug her to death's door soon after? He was mystified, and his chest hurt from the inside. See? Emotions did hurt. He almost opened his mouth to object his last statement but...

"Thank you, Hiiro!"

And then it was all worth it.

That grin, the uncommon, childish expression engulfing and flooding past her face, and the goal that was growing in her mind – to eat him to the gutters of bankruptcy. Oh God, he was romanticizing. Oh God, oh God, save him, somebody.

He is reverting back to monotone? Is he mad at me? Usagi wondered while staring at his profile which didn't allow her to discern a smirk or any show of emotion for that matter. What happened? One minute he was almost smiling and even quirking his eyebrow, but the next she was back on square one, and he was completely turning a blind eye to her.

She almost snorted at her thoughts. Who was she to think that she could change him? She wasn't innocent. She wasn't even cheerful often. Hell, when she opted to, she could be as bad as, if not worse than him! But still, one thought lingered in her head – Did men have mood swings too?

"Come on, I know of a place around the corner," he stated while walking speedily, almost as if trying to lose her or at least force her to ask him to slow down.

What the heck? I'll never understand men, she told herself but strained herself to walk more rapidly as well, involuntarily enlisting herself in the race. What can she say? She was competitive by nature.


…………………


Hiiro looked at her, flabbergasted, as she jumped up and down with excitement at the counter. And this is the person whom the media reported has had billion-dollar gemstones pass through her fingers on a daily basis?

It was getting progressively tricky to imagine the delightful, petite, fair-haired girl who loved food and cake even more lifting a few fist-sized diamonds off of the planet's most prominent figures. How did she do it? Was this some act? If it were, he'd recommend her to connections in Hollywood. After all, she could net in as much cash as she currently did if she kept those acting skills up.

But really, some of the situations that she had gotten out of were so staggering, with just a hint of a crack through which she could flit away. She was virtually ... immortal – somebody to worship when it came to physical and mental capabilities. Physiologically speaking, she was perfection. Morally speaking ... he had yet to find out.

Usagi ordered in the manner he had expected. "I would like everything from number ... twelve and down."

All the same, disbelief swamped his features. Grumbling almost silently, he paid and helped haul the food to the table.

A thankful look flew towards him as she quietly said, "If everything fails, and even if it doesn't, I'll pay you back. Don't worry." With that, another eating session launched off, leaving Hiiro to wonder what is everything?

Left with only a small box of pastries, Usagi started walking out of the store, so he pursued. As the intermittent streetlight blazed in her eyes, she peeked over at the stoically walking man beside her.

"Are you mad at me?" she asked quietly, hating herself for allowing a tremor in her voice.

Hiiro unnoticeably jerked at this seemingly innocent question and turned to look at her, "No, why?"

Yes, why? Why did she think he was annoyed at her? Unquestionably, his actions had been what his usual self would have displayed but ... she wasn't willing to settle for his usual self.

Usagi nibbled her bottom lip gently while looking Hiiro bluntly in the eye. "Because you are steering clear of my questions and shrinking back into that shell, Hiiro. You are the nicest person I know, and I fancy getting to know you before I go to the New York court. You know, kind of like a live your life to the fullest kind of thing," she finished cheerfully, the ending of a streetlight flinging her face and figure into shadow.

Hiiro inwardly cringed at her detached mentioning of her going to the courtroom where the spiteful Treize would undoubtedly be more than happy to condemn her to death, laughing wildly the entire way.

And ... what was that? He was the nicest person she knew? Was she kept away from society as a toddler? Duo would undoubtedly have a field day with that. But ... he realized as freezing fingers seized his heart, Duo was dead. Owing to the woman beside him.

"It's not that," he answered truthfully. So what is it? his mind challenged.

"Then why are you cold again?" she asked, charming voice depicting her emotions as plainly as if he were to see them.

"No reason," he shrugged and continued ambling back in the direction of the hotel, without turning around to wait for her.

I can't get to know her. She murdered Duo, a completely innocent man. I can't... He shook his head. He had known all along that he couldn't get close to her. She was anything but the innocent girl she seemed to be. With that, he did indeed shrink back from reality, allowing himself to once again become a shell of what he was for the last day or so. One day in rapturous heaven was all he is worthy of.

The flaxen-haired girl gaped at his back with worry evident on her features before a word tumbled from her lips, "Hiiro..."

Entering the hotel for the second time, Hiiro had instantly proceeded to his room, ready to abandon the girl before, "Hiiro."

"What?" he snapped ruthlessly, perhaps more harshly than his pervious self would have allowed but that self had passed away. Sleeping again. Perhaps for eternity.

"A-are you okay?"

"Yes," he retorted brusquely and glanced back at her, almost as if asking her whether or not she was done.

"You're mad at me." No question, no hesitation, pure facts unearthed.

"I'm not mad at you," he sighed, feeling the emotions in him start to churn again. He wasn't about to let them out again. "But it would be nice if you left me alone for the rest of the trip," he ground out.

"I can't win with you, can I?" she laughed softly.

The reply flew out of his mouth before he could halt it – "I didn't know you wanted to."

Usagi didn't counter. She didn't need to. He could tell from her distraught expression that she was more hurt than she had ever been for a long period of time. His arm itched to reach over to her hand and touch it gently, if only to lesson her misery by a millionth of a notch. But he didn't, obviously.

The door closed tightly after he entered his room, ignoring her to the best of his ability the whole way. What have I done? his emotional side asked himself. Please ... please, just leave me alone, he replied tiredly, cradling his head in his hands. The voice departed.

The other occupant of the hotel stepped into her own bleak room and closed the door behind her noiselessly, face lax, with no emotion besides worry and maybe a shade of mourning. Journeying over to the balcony door, she unbolted it and stepped out.

A small breeze caught her hair and made it lick at her delicate skin. Going to the railing, she leaned on it and looked up at what was left of the moon for this cycle. "Is there anything left for me here?" came the muted, wavering question.

A pair of glowing indigo eyes studied her from the doorway, past the simple sheet of glass that served as the balcony door. Seraph, his mind supplied despite the valiant efforts to suppress it. Submerged in the moon's doting luminosity while her skin and tresses glistened, Usagi looked exceptionally like the romantic idea of an angel. With practiced stealth, he inaudibly walked towards her.


Looking down at the city now, she mentally wondered Why can't I be like those people down there? So happy-go-lucky and not fretting themselves to death over the trials and tribulations of life that they can't hope to mend. Is it so much to ask for something like that, God?

By then Hiiro had reached her. Slipping behind her, he tentatively enfolded her in his embrace.

"What's the matter?" he asked gently. And then cursed at himself for it.

Usagi inwardly shivered, enjoying the sensation of his warm breath on her neck. "Just wondering why I can't have a normal life," she laughed frivolously, belittling the idea.

"You're a lot closer than I'll ever be," he sighed and released her.

Turning around, she stared intensely into his eyes and performed a soliloquy. "Life isn't picture perfect, Hiiro, and no matter how much I yearn for it to be or try to change it, I can't. I've committed crimes, true, but ... all of them were backed by good intentions. The only one ... Duo ... I'll never stop feeling guilty. But ... no matter what I say to you, I can't turn back anymore.

"It's like the color gray. There is evil in the world, stark black, but then there's the hope and radiance, blinding white. Together in the same world, they're gray, neither white nor black. Neither can irrevocably get rid of the other. Life is gray even though people choose not to notice it. But ... hmm..." her voice diminished before she finished her train of thought.

Hiiro gazed at her, processing the information. And this is why you can't get to know her, his mind told him smugly, chuckling at the fact that the girl had said it herself.

The moonlight cast him in shadow more than light, and she stared up at him, dazed and bewildered. Something had changed after her little speech, and she wasn't sure she liked it at all.

"Do you really believe in what you just said?"

She started. "Y-yes! Of course I do!" Then smiling as she glanced askance, she added, "But don't worry, you have all the world left for you. Anyone to adore, anything to accomplish, and anyhow to achieve it. Me, well..." she trailed off and looked back up at him.

Her eyes wavered uncertainly as they pursued his. His wistful, shadowy, sapphire gaze plummeted to her lips and stayed there, staring so intently that she thought for sure he was kissing her with his eyes. "Anyone to adore?" he breathed.

"S-sure, why not?" she countered unsteadily. His gaze was no longer on her lips, and he stared indifferently into her eyes before whispering, "You're wrong," and walking back to his room the way he came, like a ghost and without any parting words.

The girl he left behind felt her knees buckle and fell, staring at his back once again. That moment ... that ephemeral moment he had held her heart in his hands and was faced with two choices – to break it or to heal it. And he had chosen to break it.



The end. Hahahaha … I'm tired. You guys make me suffer so much ... so at least review! (ignores looks of 'what suffering?!') Or, :sly grin: email me at angelight97@yahoo.com! :D Yours, Angel.