The sleeping girl in the passenger's seat beside him gave no reply, so he repeated himself.
"Usako?"
The slightest of mumbles tumbled from her lips, possibly some sort of response, perhaps recognition, or perhaps not. Mamoru decided to leave her be. She'd fallen asleep just after they'd left Tokyo and begun the longest stretch of their journey, and he knew her well enough to know that once she was asleep, it wasn't easy to wake her.
It was a shame, he thought, as he took in the view before him. She would have loved it. They were driving along the coast, with the sparkling blue sea stretching out on one side of them and all the way to the horizon, and the dusty rock wall of a mountain on the other. Above and before them, the early afternoon sun shone brightly in a sky of purest azure, with only a few small clouds, white and fluffy like cotton candy, dotted here and there. The windows were open and a cool, refreshing breeze ruffled his black hair and tugged at the folds of his favourite green jacket. On all sides the wide seaside road was clear of traffic, save for the odd passer-by.
Behind a pair of black ray-bans, Mamoru's eyes – the same dazzling shade of blue that painted the sky above them – narrowed slightly as his lips curved into a smile. It was truly a wonderful day, he thought, snatching a glance at the girl in the seat beside him. She'd shifted now, her head awkwardly resting on her right shoulder. She mumbled something, but he couldn't make it out over the hum of the engine and the soothing whistle of the sea breeze.
Even in such a position, her beauty was not diminished. Sixteen years old, with the face of an angel. Her closed eyelids, with their long, feminine lashes obscured stunning blue eyes that positively glowed with vitality. Her round face, just on the right side of chubby, was framed by luxurious blonde hair, arranged in the style she had worn since her earliest childhood days, and a long time before that. The odango atama, fastened into two balls atop her head, with a long ponytail descending from each, almost reaching down to her feet, or, at the current moment, pooled around her lap. He'd always loved her hair, since the first time he had caught sight of her on the street. He'd even deemed it her nickname, until he had known her well enough to call her by her proper name. Usagi Tsukino.
He tore his eyes away from her and placed them back on the road. The journey was almost over now. This road would take them to a tunnel that led around the mountainside, and their destination lay not far beyond. He shifted the car – a shiny red sportscar that he'd brought as soon as he'd passed his test at the age of eighteen – into the next gear and increased their speed.
"Mmmshn…" came a murmur from beside him.
He stole one more look at her sleeping face before they entered the tunnel, and the need for concentration on the road ahead returned.
Usako.
My wife.
"Mamochan…" Usagi whispered dreamily as he took her hands in his and slowly, gently rubbed their backs with his thumbs. It was a moment she knew so very well, and yet, at the same time, it was a moment that filled her with the same exhilarating excitement every single time she relived it.
It was the day of their wedding, and while it had already come and gone and was now firmly in the past, in her sleeping, dreaming mind, Usagi stood there at the altar once again, filled with the same joy she had experienced that magical day. They were shielded from the cloudless blue sky and shining sun – it seemed even the unpredictable summer weather smiled on such a day – by the roof of the grand, quaint church.
They'd opted for a Western-style wedding, the kind that had been a staple of Usagi's fantasies since she had been old enough to understand the concept of marriage itself. The sunlight streaming in through the stained glass windows reflected a menagerie of colours onto the extravagant white dress she wore, any slight movement causing them to shimmer and blend like the inside of a kaleidoscope. She wore her long blonde hair down in lieu of her usual odango atama style. Atop it sat a long white veil, flowing down over her golden hair like a waterfall. Strings of pearls hung around her neck and rested on her bare shoulders, and her lips shone a rosy hue of pink between her blushing cheeks. She had never looked, and indeed felt, as beautiful as she had at that moment.
To her left stood the vicar, a British gentleman in his upper 50's, his short white hair combed neatly back and a smile on his portly face as he aided in the union of two people so obviously meant to be together. A golden crucifix hung down over his black robe as he spoke – in fluent Japanese, owing to his many years in the country – the words that would legally bind them to one another as man and wife.
To her right, every seat in the church was filled. Among those crowded into the front row were her closest friends. They had anticipated this day almost as much as the bride and groom had, and it showed in their faces as they beamed and gazed wondrously at the spectacle before them.
A smile glowed on every mouth and a tear shone in every eye.
The bridesmaid dresses she had chosen had been to all of their liking – even the boyish Haruka-san, who most likely would have felt more at home in a suit – and their combined radiant beauty threatened to upstage the bride herself.
A bouquet of white roses sat in the lap of one of her best friends, Rei-chan, who, despite being dubbed "mean" by Usagi, on account of their frequent explosive arguments, had been trusted with the responsibility of chief bridesmaid for the event.
Perched on one of the pews amongst her friends sat three cats. Two of them were adults, a white tomcat and a black female, and the third was a tiny gray kitten with a bell around her neck. All three of the felines had identical golden crescent-moon shapes on their foreheads. Like all of the humans in the room, the cats' large, shiny eyes were trained intently on the couple before the altar, and it wouldn't be an exaggeration to describe a smile on each of their upturned mouths.
Usagi's family were, of course, in attendance too. In the front row sat her mother Ikuko, a beautiful and kind lady who shared her daughters' compassion for all things. It had long been her dream for Usagi, and the rest of her family, to wed, and, while she had been assisting her daughter with the preparations for the big day, she had vowed not to let her emotions get the best of her. But when she had seen her up there, pledging herself to the man she'd spend the rest of her life with, looking more beautiful than any of the angels in heaven, her best efforts had failed her, and tears rolled unbidden down her cheeks, reducing her makeup to two lavender-coloured trails that ran parallel down to her chin.
Squeezing her hand comfortingly was her son, Usagi's younger brother Shingo. A handsome kid with a mop of sandy hair on his head, he sat and watched his older sister with a smirk carefully arranged on his face, hoping that everybody was too engrossed in the ceremony to notice that he was crying too. He'd never admit it to anybody, but he was going to miss their fights over the television on Saturday nights and the daily trading of insults at the breakfast table. Her husband had better take good care of that moron Usagi, he thought, or he'd be in serious trouble.
Their father Kenji stood behind his daughter, by the altar. His short hair was parted neatly and he wore his best black suit, the one he wore when the magazine he worked for had to cover a fancy cocktail party or the like. The lenses in the thin-rimmed glasses perched on his nose had fogged up slightly. He was no more immune to the emotion of the day than anybody else in the crowded church.
Kenji had almost choked on his dinner when Usagi had announced her engagement to a man four years her senior. Like many fathers, he was protective of his daughter, particularly when it came to matters such as this. But he had known from the way Usagi spoke of him that it was nothing less than true love, and meeting with the young man had assuaged his fears entirely. It wouldn't be easy to give his daughter away, but he trusted her fiancé and he knew they'd be very, very happy together.
For a brief moment, at least, attention was diverted away from the bride and groom as the final member of the Tsukino family, a little girl with the outward appearance of perhaps seven or eight years old, made her way down the aisle carrying a basket of white flower petals. All eyes were on her as she tossed the petals this way and that, a wide grin plastered on her pretty young face.
Her name too was Usagi, but to avoid confusion, and owing to her small size, she was known to everybody as Chibiusa. Like the older Usagi, she usually wore her hair, sugar pink in colour, in a pointed variation of the odango atama, but today she wore it loose. She was dressed in a miniature replica of the gorgeous white dress that Usagi wore, and everybody agreed that she looked as adorable as could be.
To the rest of the family, and to anybody that asked, Usagi and Chibiusa were cousins, but as their eyes connected as she neared the end of the aisle, the true bond between them – a unique blend of best friendship, intense rivalry and, most importantly, the closeness that only a mother and a daughter can possess – had never been stronger.
Another spectator among the crowd was Haruna Sakurada-sensei, Usagi's middle school teacher, who gazed with awe at her former student. An attractive woman in her thirties, she had always imagined a beautiful wedding such as this for herself, and while it hadn't happened yet, the splendour of young Tsukino-san's matrimony only served to strengthen her resolve. Usagi hadn't been the best student. In fact, with her appalling punctuality and increasingly low test scores, she had been among the worst. Countless were the times that she had ordered the young girl to stand outside the classroom, occasionally with a bucket of water or a heavy book on her head to really get the point across. However, her academic skills aside, Usagi was a wonderful girl, and by the looks of it, she was blossoming into a wonderful young woman.
Countless others lined the pews on either side of the church, stretching right to the back row. The families of her friends, four squabbling sisters and a quartet of young women with outrageous, Amazonian hairstyles, students from the high school that Usagi attended, and many other people who wished to give their best regards to the happy couple.
With the vicar on one side and the enormous crowd of well-wishers on the other, Usagi stared straight ahead at the groom, the man whom she had loved since before time, as the history books record it, had begun. Mamoru Chiba. Mamochan. He wore a black tuxedo – certainly nothing new – but he had never looked as stunningly handsome as he had at that moment. His sapphire blue eyes locked with hers and her heart swelled, almost painfully, in her chest.
She wished that his parents could have been there to see their son at that moment. They had tragically been lost in a car crash when he had been a child, an accident that had left him with no memory, and had left him alone. But since he'd met Usagi, he hadn't been alone, and she had vowed a long time ago that he never would be again. She knew that his parents, and everybody else who had been so sadly lost to them, were there in the room with them, watching and smiling and crying like everybody else.
The ceremony reached its climax, and the best man, a handsome college student by the name of Motoki Furuhata-oniisan, and Mamochan's best friend, passed over the ring. It was a stunning golden ring that shone like a crystal. It was placed onto the bride's finger, and for a moment, Usagi thought she might actually faint. The moment she had dreamed of for so long was finally happening, and it was more wonderful than she could ever have dreamed.
"Do you, Mamoru Chiba, take this woman, Usagi Tsukino, to be your lawfully wedded wife?" asked the vicar with a smile.
"I do," replied Mamochan softly, his gaze never wavering from hers.
"And do you, Usagi Tsukino, take this man, Mamoru Chiba, to be your lawfully wedded husband?" asked the vicar.
Usagi had practised saying the next two words over and over for months – no, years – and yet, she had no idea how they would sound when they came out of her mouth. She decided there was only one way to find out.
"I do."
"Then, by the power vested in me, I hereby pronounce you man, and wife," said the vicar. "You may now kiss the bride."
As their lips gently met and they kissed, long and deep, the room about them erupted into cheers, into laughter, into tears, into applause. Her friends, her family, every single person in attendance focused all of their best wishes upon the couple that stood connected at the altar, and willed them to be together for all eternity, to let nothing stand in the way of their union, to let them live the fairytale life they wished for and deserved.
After a time that seemed both infinite and infinitesimal, their lips parted and they fell into a deep embrace that lasted a similar length of time, before they turned and waved to the crowd, grinning from ear to ear.
They had made their way outside then to the accompaniment of a chorus of chiming bells, and Usagi had hurled the bouquet into the crowd. After intense competition between her friends Rei-chan, Mako-chan and Minako-chan, and Unazuki Furuhata-chan, the younger sister of best man Motoki-san, the bundle of white flowers had landed in the hands of Naru Osaka-chan, Usagi's best friend since kindergarten. The bashful Naru-chan had grinned as her face flushed a bright red, and her boyfriend – a boy with thick glasses, acne and a tousle of wild brown hair who went by the name of Umino – raised his head to the sky and whooped with delight, before being silenced by a nudge of the embarrassed Naru-chan's elbow.
An elegant limousine had carried them swiftly to the reception. No expense had been spared. Thoughtful speeches were made and a great amount of wonderful food was on offer, including an enormous wedding cake that had been prepared by one of her best friends, master cook Mako-chan. Atop the many sweet, iced layers stood figures of a princess in a white gown with long blonde hair – worn in the odango atama style, of course – and a prince dressed in a black tuxedo. The two of them were locked in a tight embrace.
Gifts were given too, of all shapes and sizes. Usagi's brainy friend Ami-chan, practical as always, brought her a weighty, hardcover book. The title of it was so complex, composed primarily of kanji, which had never been one of Usagi's academic strong points, that she couldn't read all of it, but she was too embarrassed to ask what it was. She could make out the word "marriage". Was it an advice book, like the ones Ikuko-mama kept hidden in her closet? Or was it a romance novel? She supposed she'd have to read it and find out.
Rei-chan gave her a cassette tape containing a song she had written and performed herself – a customary gift from the raven-haired beauty – and informed Mamochan with a devilish smile that if he ever got sick of Usagi and her demented ways, he knew where to look her up.
It was no secret that Mamochan and Rei-chan had dated, ever-so-briefly, before the mutual feelings between he and Usagi had awakened. Her comment sparked a heated argument in which Usagi had told her friend, in no uncertain terms, to stay away from her man. It was the way they always communicated, and nobody so much as batted an eyelid. The look in Rei-chan's eyes, and a nod of her head when nobody else was looking, had conveyed her true sentiments more eloquently than words.
Numerous other gifts were given by friends and well-wishers, ranging from the practical – a vacuum cleaner from Haruka-san proved she really did have the mind of a boy – to the embarrassing, in the form of a tiny silk negligee given by her bubbly blonde Minako-chan with a knowing smile and a wink.
A karaoke machine had been available, and the newlyweds – at the insistence of Usagi – claimed the first attempt, with an enthusiastic rendition of a song about fairytale romance, aptly entitled "You're Just My Love". It had met with thunderous applause from the guests, despite Usagi getting the occasional word wrong. She hadn't been informed that the lyrics on display contained kanji, without furigana to clarify their pronunciation, and as such she'd slipped up a few times, but nobody seemed to mind.
Rei-chan took the stage next, never averse to showing off her lovely voice, followed by Minako-chan, who had long nurtured the dream of becoming an idol and relished the chance to perform in front of a captive audience.
When all of the willing participants had sung their songs, the dancing begun – everything from jazzy numbers to a slow waltz. The guests stopped what they were doing and watched as Mamochan took his wife's hand and led her into the centre of the floor, and they slowly began to move in circles, their bodies entwined. Usagi had been grateful of Mamochan's strong lead. She was the none-too-proud owner of two left feet, after all, and taking a tumble with every pair of eyes in the room on her wasn't at the top of her list of wants.
The guests that didn't dance mingled about, talking in groups for a while before wandering off in search of fresh conversation, enjoying the food, catching up on events with people they hadn't seen in a while. But every person, without fail, at some point during the evening, turned to look at the bride and groom, and little Chibiusa who stood with them, and every one of them, without fail, was moved by the powerful aura of love that surrounded them.
A smile on every mouth, and a tear in every eye.
Then came the weird part of the evening, when the wedding cake had sprouted legs and taken to the stage, bursting into a rock and roll medley before being joined by a dancing glass of juice and half a dozen jam dumplings, who provided the backing vocals. It was quite a sight to see, but Usagi wasn't sure if she remembered it from the first time.
The group of foodstuffs finished their song, and the cake said into the microphone "This next song is called "Usako, Wake Up, We're Here"."
Usagi was pondering what an odd title for a song that was, before she woke up.