A/N: Merry Christmas Eve!

Kiss

Mamoru's hands clenched spasmodically; eyes that were a glittering ocean-blue scarce five minutes ago were now clouded with despair.

You should have treated her better.

He heard but did not listen as another voice chimed in, urging him to turn away.

I wish I could.

His lips moved silently – what was that sting in his eyes? The teen lifted a large hand to his face, never taking his eyes from the amorous couple golden-blonde and white-blond and Odangos… gods, Odango…

He was supremely surprised to feel wetness trickling down his cheek, and in his shock, two glistening trails were allowed to fall an eternity below to the dusty path.

Tears?

Mamoru saw her hands clutch at her new boyfriend's chest – new, because I would have known before now… have to have known…

Idiot. Blunt fingers dashed the tears beginning to form anew. No. He turned defiantly away – Odango could kiss whom Odango wanted. No tears. Why tears?

He couldn't remember the last time he cried. Chiba Mamoru doesn't cry. "Odango Atama…" he muttered, feeling a sudden surge of resentment. Who was she to make him feel this way? Even as he thought this, he felt his own features icing over, the warm ocean taking upon a steel-blue tinge as the cold stole his heart –

Behind him came a sudden thud, a series of gasping breaths and a feminine shriek of pure, unadulterated fury.

Mamoru's body, against his mind's better judgement, turned automatically and it was a pair of delighted eyes ocean again that witnessed the small fist fly out to deal her amorous partner the most beautifully-executed right hook the dark-haired upperclassman he'd ever seen.

The blond's head snapped back before a stamp on his foot caused a yowl of pain and a series of daintier slaps from the other hand seemed to echo through the rose gardens. Mamoru couldn't help but grin smugly.

"What did you think you are doing, you idiot!" the Odango roared, and it seemed to all the flabbergasted onlookers that she appeared to swell with rage. "That was my first kiss!"

Even as 'The Idiot Blond' stammered a reply, she examined her own hand, the expression of disgust on her pretty features deepening dramatically. "And I think I broke my hand on your stupid rock head, anyway," she hissed, storming away from a humiliated would-be lover.

As if by some unspoken decision, Mamoru slowed his pace (when had he begun to walk away?) and she fell into step with him.

"Can you believe the nerve of that guy?" she fumed.

Mamoru could not resist a chuckle, and as if realising the identity of her companion, she looked up at him, eyes wide with shock and a little bit of something that Mamoru could not quite name, though he felt it in the insistent throb of his heart. It swelled with pride in his Odango, and he smiled pleasantly at her, leaning down and allowing the words of a jealous male to slip by his guard and into his Usako's ear.

"I'll bet he peroxides his hair, too."

It was a tease, and both knew it, though she said the customary "Shut up, Baka," all the same. They smiled at one another for a few moments, not realising they had stopped walking. Suddenly, a queer expression crossed her small face. "Have you been crying?"

Usako sounded so bewildered and flabbergasted that her Mamo-chan felt himself flush, scrubbing at his face and realising that the tear-tracks had not quite dried. "Of course not," he said blandly.

Liar.