Alicia Blade
Thanks to Storm and Usagi and Mattie and Jojo and Sonja and Scarlet and Claidi and about a million people who bring me warm fuzzies with every letter/review/comment. I adore you all.
And you were right, the Outers were horrifically dull in the last scene of chapter 8, weren't they? My apologies…
To avoid confusion, italics equal our world, roman type equals the fanfiction world.
Thank you for all reviews and criticism! Enjoy!
Emily awoke with a groan. She sat up, stretched her aching back and neck and found herself still in her computer chair. She could feel the horrid red mark left on her forehead from where it had rested for countless hours in the crease of her elbow. Looking around, she desperately tried to gather her twirling emotions.
Her notebook, with its incomplete story, lay open on her desk. Touching the mouse, she forced the computer out of sleep mode, before standing to stretch her legs.
"A dream?" she muttered, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. When the image had loaded on the screen, she sat down again, seeing an unfamiliar word document where she had expected her Usagi and Mamoru desktop.
"Did I write this?" she mused, scrolling up. "It's long... It would have taken me all night." She glanced at the clock and calendar in the corner of the screen. Saturday morning. It had been less than twenty-four hours. Squinting into the blue light, noting she was on page 17, she began to read.
…
His laughter abruptly died to a soft chuckle. "Listen, Emily. No offense, but you haven't a clue what you're talking about. You don't know anything about Usagi. And you don't know anything about me. Just like we barely know anything about you."
…
Laughing, Emily shook her head. "An author insert fic? What was I thinking?" Slowly, she scrolled to the last page, skimming the text as she went. The final paragraph felt eerily familiar:
…
Setsuna nodded and in an instant Sailorpluto stood before Emily. She waved the staff in a circle, a halo of light surrounding its tip. The last thing Emily saw was the bitter disappointment on the senshi's face before the world dissolved into nothingness around her.
…
And yet, even as Emily read these last lines, the scroll bar to the right of the screen continued to stretch and the page count grew. Emily continued to read the pages that looked as if they'd been there the whole time, though she could have sworn she'd already reached the end of the document:
…
In a small bedroom on the other side of town, a teenage girl was suddenly awoken from a sweet dream about a boy in a green jacket. She stared at the ceiling a long while, trying to place the strange feeling that had crept into her heart.
"What's wrong, Usagi-chan?" Luna, her cat and advisor, asked from the foot of her bed. "Did you have a nightmare?"
"No," she said, her thoughts flashing to the delightful dream before fading back. "I just got a strange feeling all of the sudden."
"What kind of feeling?" Luna climbed onto Usagi's stomach, resting her head on her paws and looking into the girl's face.
"It felt like... something was suddenly missing. I can't explain it. Kind of like... where there was hope a second ago, it's gone now. You know?"
"I'm sure it was probably just a dream. Try to go back to sleep."
Usagi closed her eyes, but couldn't shake the emotion.
"Luna?" she asked suddenly. "Have you ever been in love?"
The cat made a sound, something between a chuckle and a purr. "Once, a long, long time ago."
"What's it like?"
"Why do you ask?"
"I've never been in love."
"Ah. Well, when it happens, you will know. It will be like going crazy in the most painful and delightful way. You won't be able to get him out of your head, and the thought of him will make you tremble and blush, and the sight of him will make you want to run into his arms and run away at the same time. It's a strange thing, love. Everything about it is a contradiction. It makes no sense, and yet all the sense in the world."
"Do you think I will ever fall in love?"
"Of course you will, Usagi-chan. Of course you will."
Finally suppressing the nervous, helpless feeling, Usagi managed to stumble back to sleep. She dreamed of the man in the green jacket again, only this time, instead of holding and kissing her, he was slowly walking away.
…
And at that moment, in another apartment half way across Tokyo, a young, lonely, dark-haired man stood on his balcony, looking out onto the midnight scene of the dully roaring city. He couldn't remember feeling so much pain, at least, not this kind of pain. He was sure he never had before, and wondered if people ever truly survived this. This cracking, shattering feeling inside his chest. It radiated out through every artery and capillary, throbbing in his blood, but always centered in the core of his being. His heart. It felt as though it were shriveling inside of him, or being squeezed inside of a clamp, or perhaps being slowly stretched and pulled apart, tendon by tendon, cell by cell.
He was not really watching the cityscape. All he could think of was the sound of her voice.
But what if no one ever falls in love with me?
Complete with the feeling of her warm body and the soft towel and the cold tile and his heart yearning, begging, crying, and his brain knowing that he just couldn't tell her. He loved her, more than any words could ever say, and she would never know. She would find someone so much better than him, someone who would give her everything, and he, Mamoru, would be alone and helplessly in love for the rest of his life.
Those few, short moments were set on repeat in his mind, and he couldn't keep them away. He couldn't stop, no matter what he tried. He couldn't convince himself that the pain was not there, that he was only imagining these things, and normally, he was oh-so-good at convincing himself of just that.
He wondered how people ever survived this, and if they ever came back the same. He guessed the answer was no.
…
Emily sat back from the computer, seemingly having reached the end of the document, for real this time. Tears had sprung up in her eyes. Of course, she had no memory of writing this. It had her writing style, it was on her computer, in her folder, right in front of her face, but she was sure she hadn't written it. She knew that it hadn't been a dream, something deep inside of her knew that, but something much closer to the surface wouldn't let her dwell on it. She'd made her decision. She was a writer, not a matchmaker. There was nothing else she could do.
With a shaky breath, she raised the white arrow up to a red box in the corner of the document and clicked.
"Do you want to save this document before closing?"
She stared at the innocent looking box for a long time, her arrow hovering over the simple word, "No." Finally, gulping, and before she could change her mind, she moved it to "Yes" and clicked.
"Document saved."
Turning off the computer, she slipped into her pajamas, ready to grab some real sleep before facing the weekend. After all, she knew she could always delete it later.
…
Emily awoke to the blissful feeling of a brilliant idea exploding in her mind. Jumping out of bed, she put on her slippers and turned on her computer.
"Emily, darling, are you awake?" her mother called from downstairs, hearing her scurrying around.
"Yeah, Mom!"
"Come down and eat lunch! I haven't seen you since yesterday morning!"
"Can't, Mom, I'm busy!" she said, stretching her typing fingers.
"Are you getting on that stupid machine again? Emily, why don't you go outside today?"
Emily rolled her eyes, then grinned at the sexy manga picture as her screen came to life. "Not today, Mom. I have major inspiration!"
She heard her mom sigh loudly, but didn't press further. She'd learned not to compete with "the Muse."
Determinedly, Emily opened Word, then searched for the file: untitled.doc. She took the time to rename it before opening it. Something drastically appropriate.
The Professional.doc.
The text popped up before her, page one seemed to be smiling, welcoming her back, as Pluto told the Outer Senshi of their dilemma. Emily ignored it, though, and scrolled to the bottom of the story.
Emily was not a good matchmaker. Actually, she pretty much sucked at it. Anything she did always ended up in disaster. Only a lunatic would ever hire HER to play cupid, regardless of the couple or the situation.
Emily was, though, a good writer. She could twist synonyms and details like a tornado, wring drama from the most boring of situations, and write a KILLER love confession.
She'd figured out how to get out of this mess, help the scouts, fulfill her duties, and protect true love once and for all. She was in her element now. Nothing, not insults or stubbornness or even the blasted Negaverse could stop her. Nothing.
Rolling up her flannel sleeves, she began to type.
…
Usagi walked slowly down the sidewalk. She'd been walking slowly all day long. The feeling of loss hadn't disappeared over the course of the night. If anything, it had been even stronger when she climbed out of bed, and had clung to her all morning. Now, as the clock ticked an hour past noon, she was beginning to worry. Call it female intuition, but something was definitely wrong with the world.
However, despite her certainty, she couldn't quite put her finger on it. She'd asked Rei and Ami, but they had sensed nothing, so it couldn't be Negaverse related. Besides, Luna certainly would have warned her if it was something obvious. She seemed to have a sixth sense connected to the dark side. But nothing. No one else sensed it. Even the sun was shining, even the birds were chirping. By all outward appearances, everything should have been fine.
So what had changed?
Suddenly, the arcade doors were looming before her, and she realized one good thing had come from this horrid feeling—she hadn't crashed into a single person all day long.
She entered the arcade and immediately spotted Motoki's smiling face behind the counter, talking to a customer. Usagi watched him silently for a moment, his friendly grin, his completely non-intimidating posture, the sparkle that never left his eyes. Somewhere along the line, these things had stopped making her heart flutter and her knees weak. She couldn't place when or why. She didn't know when she'd stopped blushing at his smile and seeing his face in every dream, but it had happened. She didn't miss the feeling, she felt no sadness or loss at it. Just another crush, come and gone.
He looked up and, seeing her by the doorway, waved hello. She waved back and finally managed to take in the rest of the arcade scene.
She immediately saw Mamoru seated at his regular booth, his stormy, intense, unnaturally blue eyes locked on her
Her heart did not skip or tremble or vibrate, but instead froze completely, held in ropes and chains and nailed down within her chest. And along with it, the world stopped turning, her lungs stopped breathing, the very air in the room thickened and expanded, and time forgot to keep counting.
Then, in an agonizingly painful and slow movement, Mamoru dropped his gaze, and whatever spell had been cast shattered. Usagi's lungs flooded with air and her heart jumped into overdrive to make up for all the blood that had drained from her head. Soon, she found herself blushing.
When the room had stopped spinning (which didn't really take as long as Usagi thought it did) she made her way on wobbly knees and sat down across from Mamoru. He didn't look up at her, his captivating eyes seemingly captivated by the day's newspaper before him. At first glance, he looked perfectly normal, but upon a quick further inspection, Usagi noticed his breath seemed slightly ragged. In fact, HE seemed slightly ragged. His hair was a bit out of place, the part a bit crooked, and a few misplaced threads clung to his usually immaculate jacket collar, and... was his shirt inside out?
And now that she thought about it, or, more realistically, had the capability to process it, even his eyes had looked lost, haunted, slightly bloodshot, like he hadn't slept well in days. Or like he'd recently been crying.
"Mamoru-Baka, you look horrible. Are you okay?"
He shifted his gaze to her. "Hello to you, too, Odango. Always the basket of compliments, I see."
She flushed, realizing how her comment had sounded. "I didn't mean it that way. It's just... you look miserable."
His eyes darkened momentarily and he looked down. "Why don't you go stare at Motoki some more, then?" he mumbled.
Gaping, Usagi glanced up at the blonde boy, still serving coffee and ice cream to his patrons, before looking back at Mamoru.
"What do you mean?"
"Never mind."
"But I wasn't..."
"Drop it," he growled, pulling the paper in front of his face so she could no longer see him.
She promptly clamped her mouth shut and clenched her hands nervously in her lap until both her lips and her knuckles were white. Her intense feeling was suddenly confirmed; something was definitely wrong with the world.
"Have you seen Emily today?" she asked, trying her best to sound nonchalant.
"Emily's gone."
"What?"
He sighed and reached into a coat pocket, before tossing a folded piece of paper onto the table. Usagi picked it up and opened it.
Dear Mamoru-san,
I'm going home. I'm so sorry for everything. Good luck.
Always,
Emily
"Oh," Usagi said, refolding it. "She didn't say goodbye to me. I didn't even know she was leaving soon."
"She didn't say goodbye to anyone." He was once again hidden behind the newspaper, but his voice was full of emotion. So much emotion that the air stirred with every word he spoke.
And instantly, Usagi knew what was wrong with the world. Just as instantly, a tiny hairline crack inflicted the first-ever damage on her otherwise perfect heart. She inhaled a shaky breath, not comprehending why tears had crept into her eyes. She blinked them back before Mamoru noticed, and cleared her throat, looking down at the table. "Oh, Mamoru... I'm so sorry."
Very slowly, Mamoru lowered the paper and looked up at her. "For what?"
"For... for never noticing. For what you must be going through right now."
His brow creased. "What are you talking about?"
She cleared her throat, feeling her voice try to stick to the back of her tongue, and forced a small laugh. "It's terribly ironic, though, isn't it? After all she did to... to... you know."
"No, I don't. You've lost me."
"And all that time, you were falling for her. Of course. I can't believe I didn't see it before."
Mamoru set the paper onto the table and leaned back, watching her. "You've got to be kidding."
"Of course you would fall in love with Emily."
…
Emily stopped typing, staring at the screen. Had she really meant to say that? A blush crept into her face, a dreamy sigh escaping her lips. She looked up at the wallscroll depicting Tuxie in all his handsome glory, and put her fingers back on top of the keys.
…
Mamoru shook his head, running both hands messily through his hair. "Odango, I am NOT in love with Emily."
…
Of course, it was too good to last.
…
"You're not?"
"No."
"But..."
"No."
"Oh." She hesitated, not quite believing, but feeling a tinge of hope begin to heal up the fissure on her heart. "Why not?"
"I'm just not."
"She's nice."
He rolled his eyes. "Yeah. She's nice. And obnoxious and annoyingly stubborn... All the things I seem to be going for these days." He couldn't help but smile at her confused expression. "Besides, she hurt someone that I... that I do… love. Trust me, Usagi. I'm not in love with Emily."
…
Emily sucked in a deep breath and braced herself for what she knew was coming. She could already feel the words itching at the tips of her fingers, begging to escape. But her hands hung still and silent a moment too long. She frowned, staring at the keyboard, then her hands, then back at the screen.
"Come on," she whispered to her fingers. "This is your favorite part. This is your forté."
They didn't budge.
"Oh, for criminy's sake!" she squealed. "Whose side are you on?" Gathering her thoughts, she forced them to start typing again.
…
"In fact," said Mamoru, his voice dropping to a near whisper.
…
"That's better."
…
"In fact..." His eyes captured Usagi's, holding her in their stormy depths, desperately trying to convey to her the truth, the significance, the need of what he had to say to her. He gulped, feeling his pulse quicken, feeling his nerves begin to tremble.
Usagi held her breath, patiently waiting as Mamoru searched for the words to tell her.
…
"Say it," Emily commanded. "Tell her you love her. Say it, Mamoru, baka. Just say it."
…
"In fact," he said again. "I'm in love with... somebody else."
…
Emily blinked. "That... wasn't it." She reached for the delete button, but stopped with an agitated sigh. "Fine, whatever, close enough. Just keep talking."
…
"You... you are?" Usagi asked shakily, feeling the crack in her heart widen.
He nodded, his eyes never leaving her.
"Oh. And does she know?"
He shook his head, not trusting his voice, and finally forced himself to look away.
…
"So why don't you enlighten her?" Emily prodded. Unfortunately, Mamoru didn't seem to hear her.
…
"Maybe you should tell her," Usagi choked out, feeling her voice waver. She could hardly believe what she was saying. But the only thing that seemed to be registering as more important on her mental scale than her own happiness and sanity—was his.
"I can't."
"Why? I'm sure... I'm sure she'd be thrilled."
His eyes flashed with hidden, unspoken emotion. That last comment had caught him off guard. "You're sure, huh?"
She nodded, not daring to look into his eyes.
"What makes you think that?"
"Because..." Her heart fluttered. "Because..."
…
Emily frowned. "Okay," she mumbled, "Not quite how I was imagining this. But... fine. Usagi-chan, you get to go first this time. Spit it out, babe."
…
"Because... you're... handsome. And, pretty nice..." She looked up and managed a shrug. "When you're not being a complete jerk, of course."
The light faded from his eyes as quickly as it had come. "Of course," he muttered, and picked up the paper. "Look, Odango, I'm not really in the mood right now, okay?"
…
Emily blinked in astonishment. "What? Not in the mood? Mamoru, you're always in the mood for her! It comes with the whole true-love-soul-mate package!"
…
Usagi looked down. Her fingernails had left tiny crescent moons in the soft flesh of her palms, she'd been squeezing them so tightly, but she could feel nothing over the roaring pain in her chest as the crack expanded and slowly tore apart.
"Right. I'm sorry," she whispered, sliding out of the booth. "Good... good luck. With... this girl..." she said, before turning and walking out of the arcade. The second the doors closed behind her, she broke into a dead run, hot tears streaming down her cheeks.
…
"Whoa, where are you going?" Emily screamed, practically tearing her hair out. "WHAT just happened? Usagi, get back there and tell him! Gah!" She jumped out of her chair and began pacing the room. "Or Mamoru, you baka! Why are you just sitting there? Chase after her! Tell her! Tell her you love her!" Her breath came in short gasps as she screamed at the computer screen. "What is WRONG with this story? Have all the characters gone MAD?" She stopped her mad charade as a last hope flared in her mind. "Wait... characters... Motoki! Motoki-san, my voice of reason, slap some sense into that boy!" She sat down again, new inspiration reaching through her fingertips.
…
Mamoru was still staring at the empty bench across from him when it was suddenly filled with Motoki's blonde hair and sympathetic brown eyes.
"What?" he mumbled gruffly, looking down at the paper.
"Look, Mamoru..." Motoki began softly. "I know you think you're doing what's right, for you and for Usagi. But... really, have you thought about maybe telling her how you feel? I mean, who knows? Maybe she likes you, too."
"She doesn't like me. She can't stand me. It's always been that way and it always will."
"I don't think that's true, Mamoru. I mean... the way she was just looking at you, and talking with you... that wasn't the face or the voice, or even the words, of someone who can't stand you. Don't you think?"
"Gods, you sound like Emily."
"Well... maybe I think Emily had some good ideas."
Mamoru rolled his eyes and buried his face in his hands. "Motoki. It is never going to happen. Please, drop it, and let me get on with my life. Let me at least try and go back to things being normal again."
"Oh, normal? You mean, normal as in you and Usagi fighting every day? Normal as in you being lonely and miserable? Normal as in..."
Throwing the paper onto the table, Mamoru shot out of the booth. "Enough! I said drop it! It's my life. I don't deserve her, and even if I did, it would never work! A girl like that could never be happy with a guy like me. Never! So if you're really my friend, you will just let this go! Don't you think I'm hurting enough as it is?" Grabbing his coat off the back of the booth, he stormed out of the arcade, leaving Motoki stunned and alone.
…
Emily stared at the screen, her jaw hanging open. Slowly, she pushed the keyboard away and let her forehead collapse onto the edge of her desk. That was it. Motoki had been her last hope, and now there was nothing else she could do. Even as a writer she could not pull the two destined lovers together. For some reason, destiny seemed to have given up on them.
Now it was her turn to do the same.
Feeling frustrated, angry tears seeping behind her eyelashes, she sat up, stared at the monitor a long moment, and highlighted the file in its browser window.
"Are sure you want to permanently delete this document?"
Tears began to build up behind her lashes.
"Yes."
…..
Eep, I know, the angst. One more chapter to go! Until next week, my dears.
xoxo
Alicia