Love Potion No. 19: Chapter 8
Alicia Blade
Oh my, did we bond over spa fun times last chapter or what! lol, you all crack me up with your comments!
To all of you who said you love the spa, me too! I wish we all lived in one area and could go get our nails done together! )
And to those of you who said you'd never been to a real spa/salon, I would highly recommend saving your money and giving it a shot. Maybe don't get the "works" on your first visit as our brave heroine did, but every girl deserves pampering and personal maintenance. Ask around and visit web sites to find a place you'll feel comfortable with and don't be shy. Relax and enjoy yourself and drinks LOTS of water afterwards.
A note of clarification: many of you seemed to think Usa'd had her hair cut, but I promise I wouldn't do that to those lovely locks! (At least, not in this story...) If you'll note, the stylist with the scissors had been working on another customer, not Usagi.
Okay, I'm done. Whew! Hugs and kisses to all reviewers and my darling editor Stormlight!
(And speaking of kisses: someone keeps requesting to see one. I promise, it's coming! Be patient!)
Chapter 8
Love is Dazzling and Radiant and Stunning
Usagi wasn't convinced that her six hours at the day spa had done wonders for her looks, but in walking to the arcade, she could tell a huge difference in the way that she felt. There was an extra strut in her walk. Her chin a little higher, her arms swaying a little smoother, her face glowing at the world around her. She could still smell the mellow fragrance of jasmine and lavender hovering like a lovely cloud around her. Her skin was as smooth and soft as the day she was born. Her hair bounced and shone and her nails caught the sunlight like little pink diamonds on her fingers.
She hardly noticed the dropping jaws and widening eyes on the men that she passed by, so focused was she on the one man she couldn't wait to see.
"Odango," he would murmur as desire filled his midnight-blue eyes, before he wrapped his arms around her and whispered into her ear, "you're dazzling and radiant and stunning. How could I not have noticed before?" Then he would crush her lips with his and kiss her breathless.
She giggled, her face flushing beneath the powder foundation and stars twinkling in her eyes as Crown Arcade came into view. Inhaling deeply, she stretched her arms up over her head to feel her muscles long and limber, before strutting determinedly inside.
He was there, sitting in a far booth with his back to her, a textbook and a cup of coffee before him, both ignored as Motoki, sitting on the opposite bench, prattled on about the day's events.
She inhaled a deep breath, feeling her confidence surging within her with the hopeful daydreams that had kept her company on her walk from the salon. He would fall in love with her. He had to fall in love with her. There was no reason for him not to.
Lifting her chin, she sauntered toward the booth. Motoki saw her first and did a double-take, his voice leaving him in the middle of a sentence. "Usagi-chan?" he asked disbelievingly.
Her grin widened. Perhaps the salon had done more for her looks than she'd realized.
Mamoru spun around to look at her and something flashed in his eyes.
Any moment now, she thought. Any moment he'll stand up and walk over here and beg me to be his, forever and ever. Any moment now…
"Usagi-chan?" Motoki repeated and she cast a wary glance in his direction, already almost having forgotten that he was there. "You… you look different. What did… Did you do something to your hair?" He stuttered, noting the honey-colored highlights, then paused, his eyes widening. "Are you wearing makeup?"
She felt a tinge of an annoyed blush and glanced at the silent, dumbstruck Mamoru, before turning back to the clerk. "Just felt like I needed a change. What do you think?" The question was quite obviously directed at Mamoru.
"It's—you look older!" Motoki continued. She smiled at him, then returned her gaze to his friend.
"Do I smell lavender?"
Repressing a growl, she turned to Motoki again. "Yes. And a bit of jasmine, too."
"It smells great. Very feminine, Usagi-chan."
"Thanks." She, once again, turned an expectant, curious look to Mamoru, and felt her heart clamp in her chest to see that he'd turned away and pulled his textbook toward him on the table.
"Wow, well, you look very nice. Though, I'll admit, I always thought you were one of my cutest patrons."
Mamoru's indifference tore at Usagi's heart and she could feel all of her hopeful emotions crumbling and not even Motoki's innocent flirting could replace the smile that had suddenly deserted her face. Neither of the men noticed as Motoki stood from the booth.
"Well I'm almost off break. Why don't I make you a milkshake before all of the single men in the place start fighting over who's going to buy you one?"
"That'd be great," she mumbled half-heartedly, still watching Mamoru as he pointedly ignored her until Motoki had walked cheerfully away. She stood twiddling her fingers, still waiting for a reaction—any reaction would do at this point—but Mamoru's focus was glued to the biology text before him.
Just as her courage had failed completely and tears were creeping behind her lashes and Usagi went to turn away, he began to speak.
"Did you want to sit for awhile?" he asked, not removing his eyes from the book.
She hesitated. His voice carried no emotion, as if the invite was obligatory. Polite, but altogether forced. She slid into the booth facing him and bunched her skirt up in her fists. A moment later, a waitress appeared with her shake and she desperately clutched at the straw, eager for something to focus her attention on.
"Uh-oh, I better be careful." She looked up to see him eyeing the shake suspiciously, with a mirthful glint in his eye. "That thing's a weapon in your hands."
She flushed and shoved it away, heaving an agitated sigh.
The tiny smile fell from Mamoru's lips and he sat up straighter. "I was only joking, Odango."
She shrugged, feeling even further chagrined. "Just not hungry," she muttered, ignoring the pinprick in her mind that warned her of oncoming tears.
"What's wrong?" The question sounded more like a command.
She pursed her lips together, desperately searching for an excuse—any logical excuse—to be suddenly in a bad mood. She briefly considered faking a cheery countenance and plastering on a faux smile and batting her eyelashes, but the strength was taken out of her. She shook her head, and turned watery eyes toward him. He gulped nervously and leaned back against the bench.
"Would it kill you to give me a compliment?" she hissed as the first tear crawled down her cheek. Furious with herself for overreacting, for acting so desperate and stupid in front of him, she swiped at it with her sleeve and folded her arms huffily over her chest. "Oh, never mind," she murmured when he didn't say anything. Finally, she climbed out of the booth, feeling that storming out of the arcade was the last possible chance to save her dignity.
But she stopped, not even a step away, and buried her face in her hands, knowing he was watching her. Knowing she looked like an idiot. Knowing that she didn't care about stubbornness or dignity. She only wanted him to like her!
But he still hadn't said anything. He wouldn't say anything. He didn't like her.
She'd waited long enough. He'd had his chance.
Her world began to crumble away from her and she felt as though she were falling into an infinite black space with no light and no air. A stuffy, hot, dark hole, with no Mamoru. No Mamoru. No Mamoru.
She sobbed and took another step toward the door.
"Odango-chan," he whispered, "you—"
"Usagi-chan?" Usagi gasped and looked up to see Makoto coming toward her. "I thought that was you! Oh, your hair looks cute like that!" The brunette paused as she came closer and saw Usagi's cheeks flushed and mascara streaking down her cheeks. She froze and looked from her best friend to Mamoru who was watching them silently, looking guilty and distraught and uncomfortable. Makoto's smile turned furious and she wrapped one arm around Usagi's shoulders and put the other fist on her hip.
"God, Mamoru, what did you say to her this time? Can't you give the girl a break for once?"
Mamoru looked taken aback and shifted his gaze nervously between the two girls as Usagi broke into even louder sobs.
Shooting one more glower at the uneasy man, Makoto turned Usagi around and began ushering her toward the door. "Don't worry, Usagi-chan. He's just a jerk, you know. But hey, why don't we give the girls a call and head out for some retail therapy? Then we can get banana splits and gossip about cute boys, okay?" Misunderstanding Usagi's growing wails, Makoto led her outside, desperately trying to comfort the girl.
When they had disappeared from view, Mamoru raked a hand through his hair and slammed his book shut. Groaning, he let his forehead collapse onto the table, thinking, Odango, you're dazzling and radiant and stunning. How could I not have noticed before?
The girls giggled and chattered as they made their way through the mall, fingering expensive silk dresses and trying on outrageous straw hats. Their cheerfulness, though, was lost on Usagi, who trailed miserably behind her four best friends, dragging her feet, fighting back tears.
His face was burned into her memory. Everywhere she turned, she saw him. On posters, advertisements, the faces of strangers passing by. She'd been startled at least twenty times, thinking she saw him rounding a bend or walking toward her, but it was only her imagination. She was grateful. Eternally grateful. He was haunting her enough as it was. And remembering that expression he'd had in the arcade as Motoki prattled on about her new makeup and her new hair made her cringe.
Cool indifference, but with something buried, lurking, deep down in the depth of his eyes. Something she couldn't quite place but was terrified to believe. Irritation? Annoyance?
Certainly not desire. Certainly not lust. Certainly not love.
Who was she to think she could ever arouse these feelings inside of the most perfect man in Tokyo? In the world?
She slammed her eyes shut and harshly bit her tongue, desperately trying to focus her attention on the pain there, rather than the sizzling pain in her chest. When she'd brought her struggling breath under control, she opened her eyes again, and saw a sports jersey hanging in a nearby store window. Blue. A Seattle Mariners' baseball jersey with "Ichiro" printed on the back. She gulped, remembering the book she'd glanced through just that morning. "Men love women who like sports."
Quickly, she turned away and rubbed a sleeve over her eyes. "No matter," she whispered to herself. "Even if Mamoru was into sports, it would never change his mind about me. It's all so hopeless."
"Alright, Usagi! This has gone on long enough!"
She gasped and looked up to see her four friends gathered around, glowering down on her worriedly. She took a nervous step back.
"What on earth is going on with you today?" Makoto began, her hands on her hips. "You haven't said a word since I found you at the arcade!"
"And you've obviously been crying," Ami continued, gesturing at Usagi's red cheeks.
"Not to mention the sudden transformation!" added Rei. "You're wearing makeup, you had a manicure, goodness knows what else."
Usagi looked down at her feet, glad that her shoes covered up the tell-tale pedicure, and shook her head. "Nothing, girls. I'm fine…" she muttered half-heartedly.
"It's a boy." They all looked up to see Minako, a look of pitiful understanding on her features. She looked a little nervous, a little guilty, but mostly full of concern for Usagi. "It's a boy," she repeated, then inhaled slowly. "It's Mamoru."
Rei, Makoto, and Ami looked between the two blondes, trying to figure out if what Minako had said was, indeed, related to Usagi's strange depression. Their questions were quickly answered as Usagi's hands flew up to cover her face and she finally let go of the pain and tears she'd been hiding. Her body, racked with sobs, collapsed beneath her and Makoto reached out to support the girl. They all crowded around, hugging Usagi, soothing her, exchanging worried glances, ignoring passersby giving them odd looks.
They expected the wails to cease after a few moments, as they always did with Usagi, and so were shocked when she was still crying just as heavily five minutes later, with no signs of stopping. Makoto raised her eyes to the others in shock, holding the sobbing girl to her chest. "What did that jerk do to her?"
"No," Usagi managed into the folds of Makoto's shirt, furiously shaking her head. "No, he didn't… he didn't…do any—" Her pleas were interrupted by another attack of wails, her shoulders shuddering with every breath.
Minako chewed on a nail, casting her eyes sadly at the floor.
"Then, what, Odango Atama?" Rei breathed, impatience evident. Though her behavior could have been seen as uncaring, the girls knew it was only because she hated seeing Usagi in so much pain. The use of the nickname, however, only sent Usagi off another cliff of despair.
She wailed, her fingers clutching desperately at Makoto's shirt as she struggled to breathe between the sobs. "I love him!" she cried, shaking her head. "I love him. I love him so much. Oh God, what am I going to do? I love him. I love him…" she trailed off as if those three words were the only phrase she knew how to say, the only honest thing she'd ever said and now she simply couldn't stop them. Pandora's box opened on her tongue.
The girls, all except Minako, took a startled step back. Makoto pulled away and held Usagi at arm's length, analyzing the girl's red and swollen features in disbelief, and Minako quickly stepped forward and wrapped her own comforting arms around Usagi. The distressed girl fell welcoming into her embrace and continued her tirade. Minako soothed her hair and looked up at their startled friends and shrugged.
"There you have it," she whispered ironically. "Mystery solved."
"But—but—" Rei stuttered, clutching her forehead in one palm. "That's impossible! Usagi hates Mamoru! Everyone knows that!"
"I do not!" she shrieked, jerking away from Minako. Her eyes were crazed and bloodshot as she looked between her friends and, suddenly, convincing them of her undying love became the most important thing in the world. "I do not hate Mamoru! How could I? How could anyone? He's amazing! He's fantastic! He's so smart and sweet and kind and generous and… and… I don't hate him. I love him so much. I need him, so, so much." She sobbed again and let Minako hold her as she sunk against her shoulder. Ami, who was often prepared for anything, handed her a tissue, which she sat holding her face into and shaking her head. "But he doesn't love me back," she whispered, her determination fading, the pain returning. "He doesn't love me back. He never will. It's so hopeless. So hopeless. I have no more reason to live…"
Three jaws dropped and Minako sighed heavily and rubbed her fingers tiredly into her eyes. "Oh, dear," she muttered. "This is all my fault."
"Usagi-chan, what are you saying?" exclaimed Makoto. "He's just a stupid boy! Are you really that upset?"
"Oh, don't," Usagi whimpered. "Don't talk about him like that."
"But how could you possibly…? Usagi, you're not talking like yourself! Don't you remember? This is Mamoru we're talking about! He's teased you mercilessly since the day you met!"
"Oh!" Rei's eyes widened. "Except for yesterday!" The girls turned curious faces toward her. "They came to the arcade yesterday. And he was actually, well, kind of nice. At least, you two didn't yell at each other at all. But what happened between you two to cause such a drastic change?"
The girls' attentions turned back to Usagi, but it was Minako who shyly raised her hand. "Erm, I think I might know."
They patiently waited for her to continue. Even Usagi's sobs gently subsided.
"You see, I… er… That is the other day, I…" She sighed. "Usagi drank a love potion."
They blinked.
"But it isn't what you think! I was trying to give it to Motoki, to… well, you know…" She continued, blushing. "But Usagi drank it instead, and then, well, she's been acting like this ever since. Well, not like this," she gestured, indicating Usagi's crying, "but terribly love struck just the same. Toward Mamoru."
"Oh, Minako, how could you? You're the Senshi of Love! You should know better than to meddle with people's emotions!" Ami scolded.
"I didn't realize it would be this effective! Besides, it wasn't that type of love potion. It doesn't change someone's emotions, it just amplifies them."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning that Usagi really does love Mamoru! It's just that with the potion, he's become, well… a necessity. She used to love him, now she needs him."
They turned back to Usagi, who was watching Minako with an unreadable expression, the tears stopped, the tissue clutched in her fist. Slowly, she shook her head and let her shoulders sag. "I don't know what you're talking about, Minako-chan, but you're wrong. I've always felt like this. I've always needed him. I always will." She sighed. "Thanks, girls, for listening to me, but I think I want to be alone right now. I'm going home." Slowly, she turned and sulked away, leaving the girls to gawk after her.
Finally, Rei broke the silence. "Minako, you have got to find a way to fix this."
Minako tugged nervously on a strand of hair. "I know, I know. But she didn't drink the whole thing. It can't possibly last forever."