Unwanted
Chapter 4
Rated: Angst
Set: First Season
Author: nat-chan
E-mail: natia_99@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: standard
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
there is a way from your heart to mine
and my heart knows it,
because it is clean and pure like water.
when the water is still like a mirror
it can behold the moon.
Rumi
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Mamoru did not sleep that night. He stayed up
and read the journals over and over. He held
the last one in his hands. Read the last page
until the numbness went away and the pain
washed over him. It was horrible.
It was dawn when he left the journal by the
window and went into his bathroom. He turned
on the shower and climbed in, still wearing
his pajamas. And he sat down, the same way
he had as a child, holding his knees to his
chest. That had been his hiding place. His
sanctuary when there was no place else to go.
Now he sat, waiting to feel better, but this
was unlike any pain or any fear he had ever
known. He had no one. But he knew, he couldn't
face this alone. The water wouldn't wash it
away.
He stumbled from the shower and hurried to his
jeans where they lay on the floor. He fumbled
around in the pocket for that slip of paper--where
was it? There was only one person he wanted. And
he wanted her at the moment, like he had never
wanted anything--though he couldn't say why.
He finally got it out and headed to the
kitchen, for his phone, smoothing the paper out and
smearing it with his wet hands. His hands were
shaking as he started to dial--and there was a
knock at the door. He hesitated, then walked over,
opening it and staring in disbelief at the girl
on the other side.
"How did you know?" He breathed.
She stepped in and pulled the door closed behind her and
he dropped to his knees, still clutching the phone.
"I don't know what to do..." He said desperately.
Usa's eyes at the moment, he would never forget. They
were filled with emotion, and it was all for him. For
no one else, just him. She took the phone from him and
put it aside.
"You need to be mothered." She said gently, taking
his face in her hands. And something about those words
came home to him. So that he let her.
She took him to his room and fished out clean pajamas and
towled his face and hair in the bathroom. She turned off
the shower and cleaned up as she went. Then she took him
to his couch and tucked his head beneath her chin and held
him there. He listened to her heart beating and the silence
of the apartment changed. It was not silence anymore. He
clung to her then and held on tight. The morning drifted by.
He felt her fingers gently in his hair, on his face.
There was so much comfort. He did not know how to receive
it. He simply held still until it finally sunk in.
Near noon she got him up and took him back to the bathroom.
And with infinite care she filled up the sink with warm water,
sat him down on the edge of the tub, and shaved away the scruffy
tracings of the past week's agony. He watched her face while
she did it and saw such strength in it. She was not Usagi, or
Odango, or anyone. There was something more. He lost forever
the feeling that she cared for everyone the same way. This
care was just for him. It was special.
She took him to the kitchen and puttered around until pancakes
were on. And she stood over him while he ate, running her fingers
through his hair. She didn't say anything. She didn't have to.
It wasn't until he was finished and headed back to the couch with her
that she stopped him, reaching up to touch his face, the hollows under
his eyes, "You're tired." She whispered.
And he let her lead him to the bedroom, lay him down and spread
the covers evenly over him. She sat by the edge and smiled, "I'll
still be here when you wake up." She promised and he slowly drifted
away.
She cleaned everything up, put everything away. His apartment was
uncluttered and held many empty corners. Only a few trace belongings
gave away his likes and dislikes...the subtle bits of his personality.
She found the journal by the window, open to the last page and read it
with horror. She turned it back and read it entirely, her heart breaking
for him. It cut off before his mother had time to write what she had
really felt at his birth. She must have loved him. These could only
be doubts...fears....not the truth.
She stared at the words for a long time...and when she looked up he was
standing by her. She expected him to be angry and for a moment he
looked like he was, but it collapsed. There was nothing left for it.
It was a tense moment--she wasn't sure what to do.
She searched his face for the right thing to say...but there was nothing.
Instead she stood and wrapped an arm around him and took him to the couch
and they read it together. It was somehow the right thing to do--the only
thing to be done. And it was. Facing it with someone beside you made
it somehow easier.
He turned to her at the end, his mother wondering if she could love
him when he was born, fearing she could not.
His eyes wide and blue and pained, "Do you think she did?"
Usagi smiled, "How could she not?" She asked.
As though it were easy to love him. As though it were inevitable to
anyone close to him. It filled him with emotions he could not name or
speak or feel. His eyes filled up and she kissed him gently on the
cheek. He pulled her into his arms and a strange feeling came over her.
The sense of responsibility and purpose that had fueled her ebbed away.
Mamoru was tall and strong and held her with such ease.
"Thank you." He said, his voice shaky and vulnerable so that her heart broke all
over again for him, "I don't know what I would have done without you."
She wrapped her arms about him and held tight, "I'll always care what happens to
you." She whispered, meaning it.
They sat quietly for a long time. Finally the long stretch of coping and hurting
and comforting came to an end. Mamoru looked at her, "What happens next?"
It was a good question. But Usagi just smiled, "Now we go on. Now we go out
and get groceries."
He nodded, "I have a lot of studying to catch up on."
She leaned close to his face, "You have time. Worry about that a little
later."
She waited while he showered and dressed and they headed out. Mamoru had
never done any shopping with anyone before. It was...fun. Usagi added
a great quantity of things to his cart he was fairly sure he'd never eaten.
She teased him about his strange attachment to dill pickles and praised
his chocolate addiction to no end.
Mamoru looked around. Families were shopping, couples, friends, roomates...
It was so nice to have someone. Usagi caught the look of happiness on his
face and felt better than she could ever recall feeling. Mamoru loved her
company. It was such a wholly different experience. Her family loved
her as a daughter, the girls engaged with her and were entertained by
her and they loved her as a friend. But Mamoru drew things from her the
others did not. He enjoyed her company and she felt for a moment that she
was his equal. That she was strong and caring and...she couldn't say what.
It was something too big to name.
She walked home with him, laden with bags and they cooked dinner together
and watched TV and finally, she had to go home.
"Will you be alright?" She asked in the doorway, her eyes so filled
with emotion they were like a touch.
He nodded and smiled, just a little, "I have to talk to Motoki."
Usagi broke into a wide smile at that and Mamoru couldn't help but feel
pleased because she was pleased. She nodded.
His face turned a little uncertain and she was struck again by
how young he suddenly looked, "You're not that much older than
me are you?" She observed.
He shook his head, "No, not really. You thought I was?"
"It just always seemed like you were." She met his eyes and
read something in them that endeared him to her forever.
"Do you want to come over tomorrow?" He asked.
"Sure." She nodded and beamed her famous smile at him. She was
Odango again and it suddenly made him feel really good.
He broke into an honest smile then, one she didn't think she'd
ever seen--especially directed at *her*, "See you tomorrow Odango."
And this time she wasn't angry about the nickname. She waved at
him from the elevator and then she was gone.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 4
Rated: Angst
Set: First Season
Author: nat-chan
E-mail: natia_99@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: standard
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
there is a way from your heart to mine
and my heart knows it,
because it is clean and pure like water.
when the water is still like a mirror
it can behold the moon.
Rumi
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Mamoru did not sleep that night. He stayed up
and read the journals over and over. He held
the last one in his hands. Read the last page
until the numbness went away and the pain
washed over him. It was horrible.
It was dawn when he left the journal by the
window and went into his bathroom. He turned
on the shower and climbed in, still wearing
his pajamas. And he sat down, the same way
he had as a child, holding his knees to his
chest. That had been his hiding place. His
sanctuary when there was no place else to go.
Now he sat, waiting to feel better, but this
was unlike any pain or any fear he had ever
known. He had no one. But he knew, he couldn't
face this alone. The water wouldn't wash it
away.
He stumbled from the shower and hurried to his
jeans where they lay on the floor. He fumbled
around in the pocket for that slip of paper--where
was it? There was only one person he wanted. And
he wanted her at the moment, like he had never
wanted anything--though he couldn't say why.
He finally got it out and headed to the
kitchen, for his phone, smoothing the paper out and
smearing it with his wet hands. His hands were
shaking as he started to dial--and there was a
knock at the door. He hesitated, then walked over,
opening it and staring in disbelief at the girl
on the other side.
"How did you know?" He breathed.
She stepped in and pulled the door closed behind her and
he dropped to his knees, still clutching the phone.
"I don't know what to do..." He said desperately.
Usa's eyes at the moment, he would never forget. They
were filled with emotion, and it was all for him. For
no one else, just him. She took the phone from him and
put it aside.
"You need to be mothered." She said gently, taking
his face in her hands. And something about those words
came home to him. So that he let her.
She took him to his room and fished out clean pajamas and
towled his face and hair in the bathroom. She turned off
the shower and cleaned up as she went. Then she took him
to his couch and tucked his head beneath her chin and held
him there. He listened to her heart beating and the silence
of the apartment changed. It was not silence anymore. He
clung to her then and held on tight. The morning drifted by.
He felt her fingers gently in his hair, on his face.
There was so much comfort. He did not know how to receive
it. He simply held still until it finally sunk in.
Near noon she got him up and took him back to the bathroom.
And with infinite care she filled up the sink with warm water,
sat him down on the edge of the tub, and shaved away the scruffy
tracings of the past week's agony. He watched her face while
she did it and saw such strength in it. She was not Usagi, or
Odango, or anyone. There was something more. He lost forever
the feeling that she cared for everyone the same way. This
care was just for him. It was special.
She took him to the kitchen and puttered around until pancakes
were on. And she stood over him while he ate, running her fingers
through his hair. She didn't say anything. She didn't have to.
It wasn't until he was finished and headed back to the couch with her
that she stopped him, reaching up to touch his face, the hollows under
his eyes, "You're tired." She whispered.
And he let her lead him to the bedroom, lay him down and spread
the covers evenly over him. She sat by the edge and smiled, "I'll
still be here when you wake up." She promised and he slowly drifted
away.
She cleaned everything up, put everything away. His apartment was
uncluttered and held many empty corners. Only a few trace belongings
gave away his likes and dislikes...the subtle bits of his personality.
She found the journal by the window, open to the last page and read it
with horror. She turned it back and read it entirely, her heart breaking
for him. It cut off before his mother had time to write what she had
really felt at his birth. She must have loved him. These could only
be doubts...fears....not the truth.
She stared at the words for a long time...and when she looked up he was
standing by her. She expected him to be angry and for a moment he
looked like he was, but it collapsed. There was nothing left for it.
It was a tense moment--she wasn't sure what to do.
She searched his face for the right thing to say...but there was nothing.
Instead she stood and wrapped an arm around him and took him to the couch
and they read it together. It was somehow the right thing to do--the only
thing to be done. And it was. Facing it with someone beside you made
it somehow easier.
He turned to her at the end, his mother wondering if she could love
him when he was born, fearing she could not.
His eyes wide and blue and pained, "Do you think she did?"
Usagi smiled, "How could she not?" She asked.
As though it were easy to love him. As though it were inevitable to
anyone close to him. It filled him with emotions he could not name or
speak or feel. His eyes filled up and she kissed him gently on the
cheek. He pulled her into his arms and a strange feeling came over her.
The sense of responsibility and purpose that had fueled her ebbed away.
Mamoru was tall and strong and held her with such ease.
"Thank you." He said, his voice shaky and vulnerable so that her heart broke all
over again for him, "I don't know what I would have done without you."
She wrapped her arms about him and held tight, "I'll always care what happens to
you." She whispered, meaning it.
They sat quietly for a long time. Finally the long stretch of coping and hurting
and comforting came to an end. Mamoru looked at her, "What happens next?"
It was a good question. But Usagi just smiled, "Now we go on. Now we go out
and get groceries."
He nodded, "I have a lot of studying to catch up on."
She leaned close to his face, "You have time. Worry about that a little
later."
She waited while he showered and dressed and they headed out. Mamoru had
never done any shopping with anyone before. It was...fun. Usagi added
a great quantity of things to his cart he was fairly sure he'd never eaten.
She teased him about his strange attachment to dill pickles and praised
his chocolate addiction to no end.
Mamoru looked around. Families were shopping, couples, friends, roomates...
It was so nice to have someone. Usagi caught the look of happiness on his
face and felt better than she could ever recall feeling. Mamoru loved her
company. It was such a wholly different experience. Her family loved
her as a daughter, the girls engaged with her and were entertained by
her and they loved her as a friend. But Mamoru drew things from her the
others did not. He enjoyed her company and she felt for a moment that she
was his equal. That she was strong and caring and...she couldn't say what.
It was something too big to name.
She walked home with him, laden with bags and they cooked dinner together
and watched TV and finally, she had to go home.
"Will you be alright?" She asked in the doorway, her eyes so filled
with emotion they were like a touch.
He nodded and smiled, just a little, "I have to talk to Motoki."
Usagi broke into a wide smile at that and Mamoru couldn't help but feel
pleased because she was pleased. She nodded.
His face turned a little uncertain and she was struck again by
how young he suddenly looked, "You're not that much older than
me are you?" She observed.
He shook his head, "No, not really. You thought I was?"
"It just always seemed like you were." She met his eyes and
read something in them that endeared him to her forever.
"Do you want to come over tomorrow?" He asked.
"Sure." She nodded and beamed her famous smile at him. She was
Odango again and it suddenly made him feel really good.
He broke into an honest smile then, one she didn't think she'd
ever seen--especially directed at *her*, "See you tomorrow Odango."
And this time she wasn't angry about the nickname. She waved at
him from the elevator and then she was gone.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~