Disclaimer: I don't much of anything of value.

Chapter 2: An offer you can't refuse

I guess, I should start this off by introducing myself. My name is Chiba Mamoru. I'm 28 years old and currently reside in Tokyo, Japan. My profession is that of a doctor, a general practitioner to be exact. I've never been one for writing, except medical papers and articles, but I'll try my best. My co-writer suggested I just write exactly what comes to mind and pretend I'm talking to my best friend. Here goes.

My best friend, Furuhata Motoki, always said, "You can't spend your entire like watching the world go by. Sometimes you have to take that plunge. It's the most amazing feeling to just jump off not knowing where you'll fall. Don't be afraid of the fall, enjoy the scenery while on the way down."

I dismissed him and called him an idiot.

I'm not the type to ever do something like this. I wasn't even the one who signed up to do this. It was all Motoki's doing that I was roped into this entire ordeal. I lived my life perfectly fine a few days ago. Life was all a matter of knowing precisely when, how, and what things were to be done. Spontaneity is for the foolish. Specifically, my life revolved around precision, efficiency, and reliability. I guess that is just a doctor thing, but I've always been this way since I was a child. There's nothing I hate more than instability. My day consisted working, eating, and more working. I was probably on the path to a burnout or a premature heart attack. I was a prime example of the term, "kashin", people who work themselves to death.

All was good in my world. I went to work, had my coffee, and occasionally spent some time out with friends. Who knew that one-week with this woman could flip everything upside down, stomp all over it, and spew it across the room in one flail swoop? It wasn't even my idea to participate in this atrocity of an experiment. I was forced into this. Who was I to know that week would change everything?

I followed Motoki's advice. I dropped everything, left the safety of routine, and did it all with a complete stranger. I took the plunge.

-----------------Ten Days Ago-------------------

I sat alone at his mahogany desk with a stack of filed neatly lined up in perfect rows before me. They were all carefully filed into the appropriate piles ready according to urgency, patient condition, and alphabetical order. The peaceful and relatively silent room held nothing more than the occasional sound of the scratching of his pen across paper or the shuffling of papers. My tie hung snug around my neck clipped to my shirt to prevent it from getting into his way. I was too involved in the medical mysteries of the body.

"Hey Mamoru!" a cheerful voice yelled coming closer to the vicinity of the desk. Motoki. "I see you're working yourself to death as usual." He seated himself in the chair in front of the desk waiting for me to stop and pay attention to him.

I signed off on the last release form, placed it in the folder, and picked up the folder placing it in the blue box marked "paperwork finished". Next was the removal of my reading glasses placing the glasses into the case closing it with a loud snapping sound. I leaned back folding my hands together, looked up, and blankly stared ahead. "Hello Motoki. What brings you by?"

I directed my attention towards the man in front of me. It's a little disconcerting that my most trusted friend lives in a pair of jeans and t- shirt 24/7 and 365 days of the year. Running his late father's restaurant and arcade, didn't really require much business attire. With his sandy blonde hair that seemed to be combed only by his fingers, mischievous emerald eyes and his patented lopsided grin, he played off the boy next- door look perfectly. He was the complete opposite to me. Besides stature, we were as different as night and day. He always commented how I looked like someone out of those trashy romance novels women were always pining for. I had the dark, mysterious man look with the black hair, deep blue eyes, and dark brooding nature that screamed bad boy. He said I was a chick magnet. I only agreed to his astute observation after his reassurance tat he did not feel for me in THAT way.

Motoki let out an audible sigh. He muttered to himself something about "the man being a robot." Reaching for the bag that he left on the ground beside him, he placed it on the desk. "I brought you some lunch knowing that you probably skipped the meal."

"Thanks." I accepted the offered gift and carefully took out the napkins making a makeshift tablecloth for his desk. Nothing could be closer to the apocalypse than the idea of ketchup falling onto his desk. "If you didn't remember to come by everyday to bring me lunch I think I would have starved away a long time ago," I joked.

"If I didn't know any better your people would think I'm your mother bringing you meals to make sure you're being fed properly. It still amazes me how you can work these long shifts without any fuel except for coffee."

"Don't bad mouth coffee. It contains all the necessary nutrients one needs to get by during the day."

"This coming from a doctor," he laughed. "Remind me not to take any nutritional advice from you. I would end up a coffee slurping workaholic insomniac suffering from an obsessive compulsive disorder."

I took another large bite out of his burger and swallowed hard. "I'm not obsessive compulsive. Maybe the other things, but I do not have OCD. It's not my fault that people can't seem to grasp the importance of cleanliness and efficiency."

"Sure," he drawled. Knowing exactly what would irk me, he picked up the stapler on the left hand side of his desk and plopped on the left corner. "When was the last time you actually just went out for fun like seeing a movie, checking out the newest rollercoaster at the amusement park, or took some vacation time off? You're like a freaking robot, man."

"I go out. I do it all the time. I go to the see movies all the time with Setsuna. Rollercoasters are for people with a death wish. Have you seen those carnies that run the death traps? Lastly, why take a day off work when I could save my vacation days in case of an emergency?"

"When was the last time you had an emergency, in which you had to take a leave of absence?"

I looked down at the planner on my desk and calculated the number of days, weeks, months, and years I had spent in the hospital. "January 10, 1999."

"That doesn't count."

"Why not?"

"That was the day I got married. You were the best man. Plus, I had to threaten to beat you senseless if you didn't show up."

"But I had to unexpectedly find someone to cover my shift. Only you would decide to elope in the middle of the night on a drunken whim." I wiped my mouth with a napkin and disposed of the empty cartons and wrappers. Pulling out a bottle of disinfectant from the left hand drawer of my desk, I proceeded to spray the desktop wiping away all the crumbs and bacteria.

"That is only one day. That is like what? One day out in the last 5 years? Still doesn't count. That reminds me. I wonder what my lovely ex-wife, Reika, doing? We had an eternal love that could have withstood time and space. We had such a promising marriage," he wistfully stated. A far away look on his face took over.

"You were married for one day before you two filed for an annulment," I snorted. "I assume true love to you has an expiration date. You two weren't even in the right state of mind to get married. I warned you that it would end in failure."

"It may have ended in failure, but those first 18 hours of marriage was wedded bliss. I don't regret one moment of it. Hey, who was I to know she planned on returning to her research in Africa? A long distance relationship would have never worked. We were both rational and in complete agreement towards the annulment. We did date for three years before that."

"After she left, you didn't seem to have too many problems finding a replacement to the love of your life."

"The only way to leave behind a past relationship is to start a new one," he chuckled. "Which brings me to the topic of Setsuna. How are things going with the ever exciting woman?"

"Don't give me that tone. Just because she runs an antique clock shop doesn't give you the right to judge her. I admire her fascination with time and accuracy. She even gave me this watch. She set it to the exact correct hour, minute, and second so I'll never be late." I pulled back my shirtsleeve revealing the timepiece on my wrist. "We're still good. I'm supposed to be having dinner with her tonight. She wants to talk to me about something. I have a feeling she wants to take things to the next step." I sighed rubbing my temples trying to drive out the thoughts of anxiety over what lay ahead for me later that night.

"You've been going out for what? Three years? A woman like her is probably looking for a ring on her finger," Motoki grinned maniacally. "It seems that you might be the next blushing bride to go of our group. First, it was Yuuichiro and Rei. Next, it was me. After that, it was Ryo and Ami." He thoughtfully rubbed his chin thinking. "They should be back from their honeymoon in a few days. Even Shinozaki has got Lita, and they are well on their way to getting engaged. It'll happen any day now. You're the last one of us to go, but we all know how much of a commitment phobic person you are." He patted me gently on the back lowering his head in feigned dismay. "At least let her down easy."

I removed his hand and opened a drawer pulling out a small velvet box. "It shows how little you know about me."

Instantly the happy go lucky smile on his face dropped. A scowl was put in its absence. "You are not going to do what I think you are going to do?! You can't marry her!"

"Why not?" I shrugged my shoulders. "Setsuna and I are completely compatible for each other. I've made a list of all the reasons why this would make our union rather prosperous and successful. We are both dedicated people towards our professions. She's intelligent, beautiful, clean, and makes a great companion. She understands the importance of my work and deals with it. It's hard to find someone like her to accept me the way I am. We've both invested a lot of time into this relationship. There is no point in wasting that time by forgoing to move ahead into the future." I pulled out a slip of paper form my pocket and laid it out in front of him. "It's all right here. The pros outweigh the cons of our marriage."

Motoki continued to stare at me like I had grown two heads. He ignored the well-organized list I spent two hours making on excel. "You made a list?!" For once in a long time, I saw Motoki angry, something that is really rare for the mild mannered man. "Damn it! You can't calculate if you want to marry someone with a list. You should just know it's right. That's what love is all about. You'll have that feeling in your gut that she is the one that will tell you what real love is. Tell me this. Do you even love her?"

"I find her company enjoyable if that is what you mean."

The vein on the side of his forehead started to pulse. His fists clenched and unclenched. "For a supposed genius, you can be real dense. Let me tell you what love is. Love is not caring about the pros and cons of the other person. It's a matter of loving every little thing about her from the little annoying things she does to the things that lured you to her in the first place. It's the feeling that when she is near all your self-control wants to be thrown out the window for that fire in you wanting to feel every part of her body against yours. Most of all, love is her being your best friend. She will know more about you than you will know about yourself." He released his final breath and slumped down in his chair exhausted by his own tirade. "Just think about what I'm saying."

"My mind is made up," I firmly reiterated. "I'm going to ask Setsuna to marry me."

"Fine." He threw his hands up in the air accepting defeat. "You do what you want. Since we are friends, I'll support you on this. Just don't say I didn't warn you about approaching it this way."

I looked down at the clock on my desk and cursed under my breath. "Oh man, I'm going to be late. She hates it when I'm late." I grabbed my coat on the cot rack and ran out the door leaving Motoki behind. "Sorry, but I've got to run now or I'll really be late. I'll talk to you later.'

I was already out the door and running into the elevator when Motoki came running after me. "Wait!" he screamed. "There was something I needed to talk to you about."

"Tell me later!"

-------------------------------------

"So, Motoki stopped by today."

"Did he?" Setsuna replied pausing to take a sip of water from her glass. She lowered her glass and peered over the rim at me. "Did you two have a good chat?"

Not a single smudge of lipstick lingered on the rim of the crystal. One more point to the pro side. My eyes lingered onto her long raven hair pulled back into a neat, tight twist. Not a single wisp of hair was loose. She did look rather good that night. Wearing a tan jacket and skirt set with a white blouse inside, she looked perfectly fit the mold of a business professional. I can't forget to mention the way she sat perfectly straight with perfect posture through the whole meal. The points just keep adding up in her favor.

"Oh nothing really. We were just discussing how Ami and Ryo should be returning from their honeymoon any day now. It will probably lessen up my load from covering their shifts."

"That's nice. It was actually Ryo and Ami's wedding last month that got me thinking about something. It's actually what I wanted to talk to you about. I don't know about you, Mamoru, but I feel my biological clock is ticking. We've been together for three years already. You know that I would like to have a child one day. I planned to be married by the time I was 28. According to my plan, it was to find a committed relationship at 25. Date for a few years and get to know him. Marry at 28. Have a child at 29. I was hoping you would be the person I would do this with."

I nodded completely understanding the importance of the plan. She had told me about it about a year ago, but somehow I must have just filed it away forgetting about it. I reached into my pocket and grasped the box with my fingers. "I completely agree with you. That is why." I was about to pull out the ring and pop the question, but was interrupted by the mangled noises of someone screaming at the back of the restaurant. A few minutes later, a couple emerged. They were too engrossed with the other, hands groping all over the place, and disheveled clothing that seemed only seconds away from being ripped off. I couldn't even make out her face from the way her boyfriend seemed to be devouring. They somehow managed to bump into every table on the way out of the establishment. The huge rock on her finger was more than enough explanation for the atrocious public display of affection.

"That's so disgusting," Setsuna sneered. "They should have the decency to do that in the privacy of their own home. People today should learn about propriety. Don't you agree, Mamoru?"

"Of course," I automatically agreed. I quickly forgot about the little interruption on our pleasant meal, and slipped the box into view. "Before we were so rudely interrupted, I would like to get back to what I was saying earlier. I've been thinking about our future as well. I've looked at all the possibilities. You are my complete and utter equal. There is no reason to not do this. We are perfectly compatible. Meiou Setsuna will you marry me?

She extended her tiny hand with its long, slender fingers. "I would be happy to," she smiled.

In turn I pulled the ring out and slipped the ring onto her finger. "You've made me very happy. This is exactly the way things should be."

"You're right," she nodded before continuing to resume eating her salad.

------------------------------------------

"When would you like to have the wedding?" I asked continuing our wedding planning that began in the car ride back to my apartment.

"I think a May wedding would be nice," she suggested. "The weather is still mild being not too hot or cold. I always planned on a May wedding. Do you think you could take some time off from the hospital around then?"

"I'll probably be granted the vacation time. What time you do you need to leave?"

"I think about four. My flight is at about six. I'll be back in about a week. I don't think this trip will take very long. It's just anther meeting with some antiques dealers."

"Do you need me to drop you off at the airport."

"No, I'll be fine. I already called the cab to pick me up later."

"Then we should get to bed since you have an early morning. I have a nine o'clock shift tomorrow."

I had gone through the same actions so many times, I could probably do it blindfolded. I would hold her hand leading her into the bedroom. She would take a hangar from the closet, stripping down to her bare panties and bra, and hang up her outfit to prevent any wrinkling. I would walk straight into the bathroom pulling my shirt off and tossing it into the hamper to be washed in the Saturday wash. Next, would be the trip to the medicine cabinet to get out the condom. By the time I returned from the bathroom, she would be completely undressed under the covers watching my every move. A small glint of anticipation was evident in the way she enticingly would lower the sheet wrapped around her a bit to reveal a small expanse of her nudity beneath. The boxers would be the last thing to go, followed by the methodical putting on of the condom, and she would pat the empty side of the bed inviting me closer. As I slipped underneath the sheets beside her, she would turn to turn off the lights.

In the darkness, I rolled over and reached for her ready body. Small chaste kisses were shared. Our breaths rose together in a steady rhythm. She gripped the back of my head pulling me down closer. Our touches were gentle and light.

"Make love to me," she whispered.

----------------------------------------

"Have a good flight." I leaned over and kissed hr lightly on the lips. "Call me when you get back."

"I will," she smiled straightening out the collar of my silk nightshirt. "I'll see you in a week. I love you."

"I love you," I replied watching her walk down the hall towards the elevator.

Now the apartment was left in complete silence. I walked towards the patio windows and opened the door leading out onto the deck. Walking towards the ledge, I peered down to see Setsuna look up and wave goodbye one last time. I smiled and waved back watching her get into the cab and drive off.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, Motoki's words repeated themselves over and over again. Setsuna only seemed to exhibit pros. There were hardly any little things she did that seemed to bother me or could be deemed bothersome. We had known each other for three years. After being together for so long, we've learned quite a bit about the other. I had to be blind not to see her as attractive, too. This was love that I felt for her. Even though there was a sort of practical approach to my decision, I had to believe that what we had was real love. There was nothing that could show me otherwise.

Closing the glass doors behind me, I settled down into my work desk and turned on my laptop. As always I couldn't stand to sleep more than the few four to five hours I could manage to get. The computer hummed as it booted up and I made myself a cup of coffee. With coffee on hand and a few hours to daylight, much could be accomplished.

-----------------------

"Mamoru! Open the door!" a voice boomed from outside. The loud rasping of a fist pounding against the door ensued.

"I'm coming!" I grumpily shouted back wrapping a towel around myself after having someone so rudely interrupt my morning shower. I growled throwing the door open and glaring down at the early morning visitor. "Motoki? What are you doing here?"

"Umm. Can't a friend just decide to stop by and see his best friend?" he laughed. He pushed me out of the way and welcomed himself into my apartment taking a seat on the couch. He nervously fidgeted with his fingers. "I had to come over early to talk to you about something."

"Just give me a second to change into some clothes and you can tell me whatever it is that is so important." I closed the front door and walked straight into the bedroom to get into a clean pair of clothes. A few minutes later, I stepped out took a seat in a chair across from him. "So what was so important that you had to rush over here?"

"Is Setsuna still here?" he nervously asked. His head swiveled around glancing towards the bedroom door.

"No. She left early this morning. She had a flight to catch. She had to go away for a business trip, so she'll be away for a week."

"Oh. So, I assume everything went well as planned."

"Yes. We've already begun discussing a May wedding."

"That's nice," he replied half listening. "Listen, I had better just come out and say this before she gets here."

"Who gets here? Who's coming here?"

"Okay, Mamoru. I need you to just give me five minutes to explain this. All I need you to do is listen and not freak out." He raised his hands in a pleading manner as if trying to sedate me. "Have you ever heard "Kyaa" magazine?"

"I think so. I've seen a few of the nurses huddled around it in the break room. It's not exactly my type of thing to read being a woman's magazine and all. Although I have heard a story or two about some writer called Tsuki who does these crazy stunts. A few of the nurses have worked with her when she gets sent to the hospital after a stunt gone bad."

"Good, good, good," he clapped his hands together. "At least you've heard of her," he mumbled to himself. He lifted himself off the couch and began to pace back and forth form one side of the room to another. "About a month ago there was a contest they were having involving Tsuki. They were offering men a chance to participate in her final stunt before she quits in the next issue. They took applications for men willing to spend a week married to her. It won't be a real marriage, but more a simulation of being married with a wedding ceremony in the beginning and a divorce at the end. The two of them will spend every day together pretending to be married."

"Don't tell me," I laughed already imagining Motoki signing himself up and the shock of finding out he was picked. "You got picked, didn't you?"

"Not exactly," he cringed. "Actually I got a call form the editor a few days ago. The person they picked is you."

"WHAT?!" I screamed causing the pictures on the wall to shake. "How did I get picked? I didn't even sign up to do anything. I didn't fill out any applications and I sure as hell didn't sign my name on anything saying I would do it."

"Well, you sorta did." He pulled out a photocopied piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to me. On the bottom line in plain legible handwriting was the familiar scribble of the name "Chiba Mamoru".

"How did you do this?!" I growled crumpling up the paper.

"Remember that time I asked you to sign a petition to stop animal testing at the medical lab."

"You didn't!"

"I slipped this paper on bottom underneath. The line you signed on was the one right here. I didn't think you would actually get picked I filled out the rest of the application and sent your picture in. Believe me. I thought it would be funny if you just tried out. This girl might be exactly what you need before you really settle into the idea of marrying Setsuna. A week of letting loose will be good for you. This girl, Tsuki is a sure thing for a wild time."

"I don't need to have a wild time. I can't do this. I'm on call every day this week."

"I knew you might say that, so I called into the hospital and spoke to a few superiors about you taking a week off. They agreed you needed to take a break, too. As of right now, you are officially on vacation."

"How could you do that without my consent? Fine. You're just going to have to call that magazine and tell them that I can't do this and that you fraudulently coerced me to sign a document without my knowledge."

"I tried to explain to them already, but then they started threatening to take legal action if you don't go through with this. They'll take you to court for breach of contract. You've already signed the waiver agreeing to go through with this. All that matters is that you're signature is on the document. They say you have no legitimate protest to this because you stupidly signed an agreement without reading it.

"I'm not doing this. You do it!"

"I can't. They want you. If you don't you'll be taken to court. I've already received a warning call from their lawyers."

The chime of the doorbell interrupted our shouting matched. An eerie silence settled between us.

"Who is that?"

"I think it's her," he whispered back.

"God I don't even know what she looks like. I could be stuck with some hideous insipid ditz for the next seven days," I groaned.

"No one else knows what she looks like either if that's any consolation. She's never revealed her true appearance to anybody. She might be hot."

"You need to shut up now. Don't forget that I still have to kill you later."

"Does that mean, you're going to go through with this?

"No. I'm going to have a talk with this Tsuki and try to extricate myself from this mess you've gotten me into."

"What if you can't?"

"Then I'll have to go through with it."

The chime of the doorbell increased in frequency changing from a patient wait in between each ring to an incessant ringing every few seconds. I stormed towards the door and thrust it open ready to scream at the impatient woman on my doorstep.

"Chiba Mamoru? Hi. My name is Tsukino Usagi." She expectantly looked up and offered a hand out. "I'm your new wife."

I took the offered hand and dumbly shook it. For once, I was at a complete loss of words. "Nice to meet you." I looked down at the petite blonde in front of me with the large blue eyes watching eyeing me over.

Shocked was at the top of the list in emotions I was feeling. In front of me, was a woman with long blonde hair pulled back in a sloppy ponytail. Strands of hair stuck out all over the place as if she had just run through a tornado. Her lipstick was smudged to the side of her lips. Her ensemble consisted of something that looked like she hadn't looked in the mirror that morning. Her conservative grey knee length skirt was twisted around her knees and on top she wore a very wrinkly red t-shirt bearing a cartoon character girl screaming "Angry Little Asian Girl!" while holding up both her middle digits. Her purse was bulging resembling more like those huge totes bag ladies carried on the streets. A large container of coffee was in her free hand while the other clutched a piece of paper.

I knew at that moment I was done for. It was going to be one hell of a week.