She leaned her head back until it was resting on the cool porcelain of the bathtub. Her long hair had been stuffed into a pink shower cap. She raised her feet out of the water and placed them, one crossed over the other, on the opposite side of the tub. Comfortable now, she closed her eyes and let the hot water envelop her. A smile came to her lips as she relived the events of the last hour.
Following Kazuo-san's unfortunate departure, Usagi took her place on the sidelines as Mamochan and Tomoko-san played a one-on-one match. Evidently Usagi's cheering – a combination of hopping up and down like her namesake, waving her arms manically, and chanting her beloved's name – had been a great help, as Mamochan had been in top form. Tomoko-san had put up a decent fight, but in the end, Mamochan had emerged the winner.
A cheering Usagi elatedly leapt into his arms to congratulate him on his victory, although he had admitted later, as they were making their way back to the cabin, that Tomoko-san had probably been worried about her husband, which had taken her down a notch or two. Regardless, it didn't make his victory any less impressive in Usagi's eyes.
With a few minutes of court time still remaining, Mamochan placed Usagi back on the floor and handed her the tennis racquet. She stared at it for a moment, as if not quite sure what it was, and then looked back up at him, puzzlement on her face. "You want me to carry it?" she asked.
He shook his head. "No," he replied. "You're going to hit the ball."
"Wha-?" asked Usagi, but before she could object, he was ushering her onto the service line. Standing opposite her, behind the net, was Tomoko-san, her racquet in one hand and a ball in the other. Usagi turned her head to look at Mamochan, standing behind her.
"Mamochaaan…" she whined, utilising her best sulky expression. "I don't want to play!"
He nodded. "You're just going to receive one of Tomoko-san's serves, okay?"
"But I can't!" insisted Usagi. Mamochan held up his right hand and wiggled the index finger back and forth. "You can," he said, firmly, but kindly. "I know you can."
Usagi scowled and turned back to face Tomoko-san. "Stupid tennis…" she muttered under her breath. "I've already missed a hundred million balls and fallen over. How much more of this do I have to take?"
If Mamochan heard her, he didn't show it. He stepped forward so that he was standing right behind her, close enough to speak into her ear. "Now, you want to stand with your feet at shoulder-width apart. You're more stable that way."
I need all the stability I can get, Usagi thought glumly. She did as she was told. "Now, bend your knees slightly," said Mamochan. Usagi bent her knees so that she was in a squatting position, and was horrified to hear an amused laugh come from behind her. She straightened and spun around on her heels, glaring up at him.
"If you're going to laugh at me, I'm not doing this!" she hissed angrily. He chuckled and placed a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he said. "You looked like a frog, that's all." He gave her shoulder the slightest push, and with a heavy sigh, she turned around again.
"Now, feet apart and bend your knees, just a little," said Mamochan. Usagi followed his instructions, and this time he seemed satisfied. "Place your weight on the balls of your feet and lean forward slightly," he continued, "like you're an animal that's about to pounce."
This is too complicated, thought Usagi with dismay, but she did as he asked. "Hold your racquet centrally," was his next request. He reached around from behind her and guided her arms into the correct place. Usagi was beginning to feel like a stone statue, uncomfortably rooted in place, constantly in danger of tumbling from her pedestal and shattering into pieces. She hardly dared breathe.
Mamochan seemed to notice her discomfort, and gave her arm a gentle squeeze. "Relax, Usako," he said. "This is supposed to be fun, remember?"
Manga and videogames are all the fun I need, thought Usagi, but she didn't say so. She nodded, wishing it'd just be over already. "Okay, now, watch Tomoko-san closely," said Mamochan. "You want to watch her serve, so you know where to place yourself to best receive the ball."
Why is he doing this to me? Usagi thought miserably.
Mamochan gave a wave to Tomoko-san, and she got into a similar position to the one Usagi was currently contorted into. The difference, Usagi noted, was that she didn't make it look uncomfortable and static.
"Now, all you're going to do is watch her hit the ball," Mamochan told her. "Get yourself in position so that you're in its path, and then swing the racquet and hit it right in the middle."
"It sounds hard," complained Usagi, but Mamochan shook his head. "It's only hard because you think it is." He placed a hand on her back and rubbed it softly. "I know you can do it, Usako. Now, let's get this done so we can get back to the cabin, eh?"
She nodded and bit her lip. She stared straight ahead at Tomoko-san, focusing on the ball in her left hand intently. Despite Mamochan's reassurances, she didn't really think she could hit it, but she supposed it was worth a try. If she gave up now, she'd feel worse than if she'd at least attempted it, whatever the outcome was.
She watched as Tomoko-san tossed the ball into the air and struck it with her racquet. It soared up, over the net, and then began to fall, heading for a landing just to the right of Usagi's position. "Go, Usako!" came a voice from behind her, spurring her into action. She quickly took a step to the right. Now the ball was heading right towards her. Closer and closer and-
"Swing!" called Mamochan, and she did, the racquet in her hands swinging to the left in a circular arc. A sudden sound – purr! – filled the air and she felt the force of two objects colliding in her wrists, and then, to her astonishment, the ball was hurtling back the way it came, back over the net. Tomoko-san held up her racquet and the ball struck it before falling to the ground, bouncing once on the turf before being caught in her hand.
Usagi blinked a couple of times, her face devoid of expression. Had she done that?
It took a moment for the realisation to sink in. I did it, she thought, a grin slowly spreading across her face. I did it!
She span around to face her husband, who was smiling proudly. "Mamochan!" she cried happily, "I did it! I did it! Did you see?"
He nodded once. "See," he said, "I told you you could do it."
Usagi dropped the tennis racquet and ran to him, throwing her arms around him and embracing him tightly. She buried her head in his chest. "I love you, Mamochan," she mumbled into his shirt, before raising her face to look into his eyes. "I love you."
"Not bad!" came a voice from behind her, and she turned around to see Tomoko-san standing there with a smile on her face. "Like I said earlier, everybody has to start somewhere," she said, "and you took the first step tonight."
Usagi's grin widened even further. "Come on, let's do it again!" she cried, bending down to scoop up her racquet. She began to hop up and down, swinging the racquet from side to side, deflecting imaginary balls from every direction.
"I'm afraid our time is up," said Tomoko-san wistfully, glancing at her wristwatch for confirmation. "We've had the full hour."
Usagi stopped bouncing and thought for a moment, her expression neutral. A couple of seconds later, the grin returned to her face with full force and she began to bounce again.
"That's fine too!" she cried. "Come on, Mamochan!" She began to skip towards the exit, continuing to wave her racquet around, now miming a sword fight with dozens of imaginary foes.
Usagi emerged from the bathroom into the bedroom, humming happily to herself, the memory of her victory on the court playing in a permanent loop in her mind. A thick pink towel was wrapped around her body, and she held a second, smaller towel in her hands, which she was using to dry her wet hair.
She sat down on the bed, and as she continued to massage her hair with the towel, the Crystal Moon Rose caught her eye. It was still standing on the bedside table, its red head glowing like a ruby, the countless crescent-moon shapes on the stem glinting like stars in the night sky.
It always made her feel giddy, thinking about the future. She had seen it with her own eyes, proof that their love would lead the Earth into a new age of peace and prosperity. She had met the wonderful young girl who would eventually become their daughter. It was a dizzying thought, and sometimes it rather daunted her, thinking of the responsibility and the challenges that lay ahead. She was afraid, sometimes, that she wouldn't be able to face those challenges.
But…
She stopped rubbing her hair and fell silent, listening intently. She smiled as she heard him in the next room. It sounded like he was making tea.
She resumed drying her hair. As long as he was beside her, she knew she could face whatever trials the future held. Alone, perhaps, she might crumble. She wasn't strong, not like her friends, and not like Mamochan, although she always, always tried her hardest.
But just like he had been there on the tennis court tonight, to guide her, encourage her, he would be there in the future, too. Always standing by her side. Always lending his support. Together, there was nothing they couldn't accomplish.
She stood and slipped out of the bath towel, quickly dressing in a pair of loose-fitting lavender pyjamas. She retrieved her wedding ring from the bedside table and placed it back on her finger, gazing fondly at its golden surface. Like the Crystal Moon Rose, it was tangible proof of the union between them, and therefore was one of her most treasured possessions.
She plucked a hairbrush out of her suitcase – it lay open beside the bed, probably the closest to unpacking she'd get – and stood in front of the full-length mirror that was attached to the front of the wardrobe. She began to rhythmically brush her long, golden sheet of hair, as she always did after a bath. When she had finished, she re-arranged it into the usual odango atama. Her fingers made light work of it, and understandably so, as she'd performed the same routine every day for as long as she could remember.
Sliding her feet into a pair of pink bunny slippers, she pushed open the door and entered the living room. Mamochan had indeed made tea, and he was just placing the tray down on the table as Usagi entered. He smiled over at her.
"Tea?" he asked courteously.
Usagi nodded and crossed to the sofa, sitting down and smiling as she sank slightly into the thick cushion. Mamochan poured her a cup and then sat down beside her. The tea was delicious, as always. Usagi quickly finished the cup and placed it back on the tray. Smiling devilishly, she gently took the cup from Mamochan's hands – it was still half full, if not more so – and put it down next to hers.
"Usako?"
She leaned back and rested her head on his shoulder, rubbing it gently up and down like a cat pining for attention. He quickly understood her intent, and raised his arm to wrap it around her shoulders and pull her closer. Her head was pressed against his chest now, strong and hard. She lifted her feet from the floor and placed them on the edge of the coffee table. Her eyes drifted to a close.
"Mamochan…"
She already had their evening planned out. From here, they'd kiss for a little while, then they'd light the fireplace, to further heighten the romantic mood, and maybe kiss a little more. After that, they'd snuggle up on the couch and watch a movie on the TV. She wasn't sure what. Maybe a horror movie, so Mamochan could comfort her if she got scared. And afterwards, when it was late, they'd go to bed, and get undressed, and then they'd kiss some more, and then-
Knock, knock, knock!
The sudden burst of sound from the doorway jolted her eyes open and derailed her train of thought. Her legs involuntarily kicked out, unbalancing the table and causing the tea tray upon it to slide over the edge. With a crash, it deposited its contents on the floor. Usagi watched in horror as a dark stain began to spread across the light blue carpet.
Knock, knock, knock!
Usagi glared over at the door, then down at the rapidly expanding circle on the carpet, and then back at the door. Who was that, knocking so loud, this late at night? She got her answer as Mamochan got to his feet and walked over to the door, being careful to avoid the wet patch. He opened it.
Tomoko-san stood behind it, her face equal parts embarrassment and concern. "I'm sorry for bothering you," she said apologetically, "but have you seen Kazuo anywhere?"
Forgetting the spilt tea, Usagi hopped off of the sofa and joined her husband at the doorway. "I thought he went back to the cabin?" she asked. Tomoko-san nodded slowly. "Yes, that's what he said," she agreed. "I got back to the cabin but he wasn't there. I figured he'd gone for a walk, or something. He sometimes does that, says the fresh air does him good."
She swallowed loudly before continuing. "It's been almost an hour now, and he's still not back. I'm worried that…"
She trailed off. Usagi understood her completely. She didn't want to voice her concerns, in case it somehow validated them. Beside her, Mamochan was already bending down to pull on his shoes. "I'll help look for him," he said.
Usagi nodded. "Me too."
He looked up at her from his crouched stance and shook his head. "You're not dressed." He finished tying his shoelaces and stood, placing one hand on her shoulder. "You stay here, I'll help Tomoko-san find him."
Usagi shook her head firmly. "No, I'm coming with you. Six eyes are better than four, right?"
Before he could argue, Usagi stepped out of her slippers and into her own shoes. She reached for the coat rack on the back of the front door and retrieved her pink jacket, quickly shrugging it on. All ready, she turned to Tomoko-san and gave her a reassuring smile.
"Well, let's go find him, shall we?"
Tomoko reasoned that her husband might have gone for a drive, so the trio briskly trekked across the length of the resort towards the entrance. As they walked, she explained that there were several measures, from fresh air to lying down in a darkened room, that were used to relieve the acute symptoms of a migraine. Her husband usually found that fresh air eased the pain. Perhaps he had taken a drive with the windows open? It was a good place to start their search.
Arriving at the car park, they were disappointed to find the Iwamoto's car still parked in its space, untouched since earlier that day. Still, this limited his whereabouts to the resort itself, which didn't have an overly large amount of ground to cover.
They ascended the cobblestone path again, and from the dual-purpose glass building, the three went their separate ways. Tomoko went inside, thinking that perhaps her husband had doubled back to get something to eat. If not, she could ask the staff if they had seen him in the last hour. Mamoru was to search the main bulk of the resort, while Usagi was to investigate the cabin area.
Usagi dearly hoped that he had simply gone for a wander and ended up snoozing behind one of the cabins. Logically, it was the most likely scenario, but she had never been one to pay too much attention to logic. Rather, she listened to her heart, to her feelings, and at the moment she had a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach.
Something had happened, or was happening, or was about to happen. She didn't know what. After all, how many bad things could happen to a person in a place as nice and quiet as The Peaceful Circle? But still, the feeling persisted.
Doing her best to suppress it, she reached the cabin area and began her search. There were six cabins, arranged in two rows of three. Usagi walked through the thin alleyway that separated the rows, peering into the spaces between each cabin.
It was dark now, the sun having set entirely, and Usagi was a little ashamed to find herself growing increasingly nervous. Deep, thick shadows lined the cabin walls, twisting and dancing like ghostly figures. The day's gentle breeze had strengthened into a chilly wind, and she pulled her coat tighter around her. The usually relaxing sound of the sea, the waves crashing and breaking only a stone's throw away, had taken on a slightly ominous edge. The feeling of foreboding increased.
We shouldn't have split up, thought Usagi, before chastising herself for being so childish.
Wherever Kazuo-san was, he wasn't in the spaces between the cabins. Usagi stepped out from between the last two, glad to be standing under the pale moonlight again. She turned to the right and began to head around the cabins. Only a short distance ahead of her was the stone wall that surrounded the resort. Beyond it she could see the sea, black as the sky, its surface churning and heaving like some kind of writhing, living being.
She and Mamochan had spent many wonderful nights staring out at just such a view, but now, alone, dressed only in her thin pyjamas and a summer jacket, it took on a sinister quality. She shuddered and began to walk the length of the cabins, inspecting each one. The first two were dark and silent, but the last one caught her eye: there was a dim light coming from one of the windows. Since all the cabins had the same layout, she knew it was the bedroom.
Usagi climbed the steps to the front door. It was terribly rude of her at this hour, she knew, but she wanted to ask the resident if they had seen Kazuo-san in the last hour. After all, he had left in the direction of the cabins. Even so, she hesitated before knocking, convincing herself that it was because she didn't want to upset the person inside, and nothing more.
Finally, she decided to knock lightly on the door. Loud enough for the person inside to hear, if they were still awake, but not loud enough to disturb them if they had already gone to sleep.
There was no response for a few moments, so Usagi knocked again, ever-so-slightly louder than the first time. This time, a light went on in the main room of the cabin, and a moment later, the door opened. Usagi raised her eyes to the occupant's face to apologise for knocking at such a late hour, but the words died in her throat.
Green eyes stared coldly at her, as dark and tempestuous as the ocean behind Usagi's back. They belonged to the impossibly beautiful face of a girl only slightly older than Usagi. Her long hair was the colour of fire. Her slender body was dressed in a thin white robe.
Usagi had seen her earlier in the day, sitting by herself on the bench overlooking the sea. The same chill that had stung her spine then revisited her now, stronger than before under the weight of the girl's bottomless stare.
"Yes?" asked the girl, in a voice as cold as her expression. Usagi plucked up the courage to speak, and said in as apologetic a manner as she could muster, "I'm sorry for bothering you, but I'm looking for somebody."
The girl said nothing, and her expression didn't change. Usagi went on, the unease that she felt creeping uninvited into her voice. "Um, he's a man named Kazuo Iwamoto-san, he's-"
"I don't know anybody by that name," said the girl sharply, interrupting her.
Usagi nodded nervously. "Well, that's okay. I was just wondering if you'd seen him, but-"
"I haven't seen him," interrupted the girl again. "I'm alone."
Usagi opened her mouth to speak, but before she could even form a syllable, the door was slammed in her face. Seconds later, the light in the main room went out. Usagi turned around and walked quickly down the wooden steps to the ground. At any other time she would have been furious to be treated with such disrespect, but in this case, she was relieved to be free of the woman's piercing gaze.
She began to walk back in the direction she had came, but stopped as she passed under the bedroom window. It was slightly ajar, and she could hear voices from inside. She stepped closer, looking up at the dim square of light, straining her ears to listen. She couldn't make out any words, but there were definitely two voices. One belonged to a woman, no doubt the girl that had answered the door, but the other voice was male.
Usagi frowned. A man's voice?The girl had definitely said she was alone. She paused for a moment, processing the information. The girl was lying, that much was for certain. But why? Did the man's voice belong to Kazuo-san? If it did, why would he be there?
She decided to find out. She climbed the steps to the front door and knocked again, not bothering to be discreet this time. Again, the light in the main room came on, and then the door opened. The girl stood behind it, and now there was undisguised anger in her eyes.
"What do you want now?" she asked shortly.
"I want to know who's with you," demanded Usagi. The girl frowned at her as if she were an insect that she'd discovered in her food. "I already told you," she hissed. "I'm alone."
"You're lying," countered Usagi, glaring right back at her. It took all of her willpower not to turn her head and break eye contact. "I heard you talking to a man." The girl gave a short grunt of humourless laughter, and shook her head. "You are mistaken," she said, an icy, threatening undertone in her voice. "I am alone."
"We'll see about that!" replied Usagi, and before the girl could stop her, she had ducked under her arm and stepped into the main room. "Forgive my intrusion," she said impertinently as she quickly kicked off her shoes and strode towards the bedroom door on the other side of the room.
"What do you think you're doing!" came the girls' outraged voice from behind her, but Usagi ignored it. She reached the bedroom door and flung it open.
Her smile froze.