1

I could feel the temperature augment a few hundred degrees as her hand snaked around my neck. She lunged her body at me, rhythmically grinding her hips against mine. I could feel the beads of perspiration collect upon my forehead and the heat well up inside my cheeks. One of her hands moved to my head, slowly beginning to massage my scalp thoroughly, making sure that every movement reverberated in my ear. Her head was now sneaking into the nook between my chin and shoulder, moaning into my neck. I could feel her hot breath on me, her lips against my flesh, her hands somehow all over my chest and the very contour of my body. The world around us was contracting, making it so that no one existed but her and me. Her hands, her arms, her body, and those incessant lips. A sense of claustrophobia suddenly washed over me. I couldn't do this. I can't do this.

"I'm sorry," I choked, unraveling her body from mine. "I don't think this will work out." Her eyes seared through me, and I swore I could feel some sort of a conflagration building up inside of me. She glared at me, flicking her hair as if I was a waste of her time, and then she latched onto another heterosexual male a few centimeters away. I sighed, leaving the dance floor and the blazing lights for a seat at some secluded table. This wasn't my scene; I had no business being here.

I watched the couples frolicking around me. Girls clung to guys as if they were their lifelines. The music was fast, the room congested, and the atmosphere full of light banter and sexual tension. Shaking my head, I released yet another groan. None of these people cared for their partners. A dance, some drinks, flirtatious smiles, and fiery kisses. None of it meant anything, and I seriously doubted it ever would. They were just here for what the place offered—the drunken company of another bed partner. It was meaningless; it was pathetic. And it was seriously getting on my nerves.

"What are you doing just sitting there snarling under your breath?"

I looked up, only to see my good friend Motoki staring at me amusingly, smiling good-naturedly. I sighed again, rolling my eyes and shaking my head as if they were an adequate answer to his question.

He just laughed, taking a seat beside me before he got a drink. His eyes absentmindedly scanned the crowd for his girlfriend Reika, smiling as he spotted her near the snacks, talking animatedly to one of her close friends. He didn't really say anything; his eyes just appeared to be roaming over the crowd, engulfing everyone and everything one by one, studying them as if they were a formula to be mastered. For some odd reason, his grin disappeared, a deep frown quickly replacing it. I grimaced, realizing what he must have seen.

"Motoki, I really tried to make it work. We were dancing and everything, but—"

He shook his head. "But she decided that you weren't hot enough for her and found some other guy?" He smiled dubiously.

He wasn't going to easily let me off the hook, of course.

I groaned. "I liked Hana and all, but she wasn't into me like that."

He arched an eyebrow, skepticism clearly sprawled upon his face. "She wasn't 'into you like that'?" he reiterated incredulously. "Man, the girl was all over you. I saw you two grinding like rabbits on the floor. And was it just me or was her tongue in your ear?"

Someone please shoot me now.

Motoki was now laughing, the mirth dancing in his eyes. He wanted me to relive this night forever. This disaster. I swear, if no one killed me within the next second, that blonde-headed moron was going to be strangled—personally—by me.

Controlling my fury, and keeping my fists clenched and away from any blonde heads within proximity, I stared at the tiled floor. Muttering as low as possible (but still somewhat audibly), I told him. "It didn't mean anything. It would never mean anything." It was pathetic, I knew. It was derisory, insulting, and utterly laughable. But it wasn't something I could let go of—and believe me, I tried.

It was this piece of me, the puzzle that completed everything I valued, everything I believed in. I had tried countless times, but I couldn't let it go. I could never let it go.

I felt Motoki's hand on my shoulder, his eyes gazing at me almost apologetically. He didn't say anything; he didn't need to. I knew he understood. He just gave me a gauche smile, nodded, and retreated to his girlfriend.

I closed my eyes for a few seconds, guzzling down a virgin cola.

I knew it was unhealthy, maybe even ludicrous. But even in the midst of this, watching all the guys and girls make merry together, I couldn't drop it. I couldn't let her go.

---

Around one AM, I finally headed outside, departing the stifling, airtight room for a breath of fresh air. It was cool outside. Not the kind of weather that makes a person run around yawping like a headless chicken for a layered jacket, but the kind of weather that people delighted in. I could feel the breeze against my face, the glitter of the moon resting upon my head. The atmosphere was almost ethereal, serene. It was the one thing to put me at ease the entire night.

I closed my eyes for a moment, allowing any thought to come to mind... And, of course, I found myself thinking about... Dreams. "A series of images, ideas, or emotions; reveries; states of abstraction; trances." I sighed, a weary smile plastered over my face. I was a dreamer, a romantic. The one guy on campus who was certain he had found love... at the age of four. How is that possible? For years, I wondered... I was four; she was three. It was our first and last encounter. She was beautiful--an angel, I liked to call her. Lapis Lazuli orbs, rose-tinted cheeks, and golden tendrils of hair... We only met once, out on some playground in the middle of nowhere. She had the smile of a siren and the most infectious laughter I had ever heard, like chimes, ringing the most pleasant sound into your ear. I fell in love with her almost instantly, and although I don't recall her name, the memory plays in my mind every morning and night. A dream... haunting me constantly, never letting go. It was as if it were omnipresent, chaining me, never surrendering liberty. Only... Sometimes you don't want to be freed. Sometimes you want to cognizantly be delirious. To dream...

"Chiba Mamoru, what on earth are you doing outside?" Minako interrogated, shaking her head in mock disappointment.

I laughed. "Just thinking, I suppose."

She frowned, her arms suddenly around me, a look of sympathy in her gaze. I knew she had noticed; she knew me almost as well as Motoki did, but I didn't want to trouble her. She was one of my good friends, and as such, she had some sort of telepathic knowledge of the odd workings of my mind. She always knew when I thought of her. I tried smiling at her, trying to ease her concerns into oblivion. But I knew she didn't buy it.

"Mamoru..." She offered me the beginnings of a smile. "I'm sorry."

I shook my head, letting the ordeal go. Like everyone else, she believed in love. She just couldn't imagine that a guy like me would swear off all women because he had found the right one. Because he had seen something in a three-year-old girl when he was only four and had decided that she was the one for him for the rest of eternity--the only one for him. Because he was in love with someone he didn't even know still existed. He had no idea who she was, where she was, or if she felt the same way. She was a stranger and he was in love with her. I was in love with her.

We just stood there for a while, the silence consuming us, but in a relatively comfortable way. I guess words weren't needed at this point... Minako (Mina, as I called her) had always tried to comprehend my odd sense of commitment--genuine loyalty, she liked to call it--and although I doubted this scenario had done her any good, the attempt was still appreciated. She smiled at me, trying to comfort me about my awry date from hell. "I hope you find her one day," she eventually said, hoping the words would calm me, knowing few people ever voiced such a thing.

I hope so, too, Mina. I hope so, too.

---

I was never a fan of Friday nights; they were as insipid as hell. You go to another monotonous high school party, you dance in the most indecent manner available, and then you get piss-ass drunk. For this reason, most of the guys I knew spent their Saturday mornings being dead, recovering from an earth-shattering hangover, throwing themselves up silly, and calling in sick.

Motoki and I always had the sense to control ourselves at these social gatherings; he hung out with his longtime girlfriend Reika, while I sat at some secluded corner, people-watching. I always admired Toki... As a kid, he had been the one completely sure of himself, and I was always the insecure shrimp. I remember the day we first met. We were both around eight, and I had tried running away from the orphanage. I wasn't as popular as I am now back then, and both the girls and guys at the orphanage jeered at me. So one day, I just upped and left, and somehow, I ran into Motoki, who seemed to be running away from his family as well. I'm not sure if he had a reason--all he seemed to talk about was going on adventures and exploring the world. But the way he spoke, confidently and charismatically, made me want to be just like him. None of us ended up running away that day. We hung out at the park and went back to our respective "institutions." But we kept contact, met at the park regularly, and ever since then, we've been stuck to each other like paper and glue.

I awoke in the morning in the same manner I always did: sweat-covered, gasping, and really warm. Motoki was up already, enjoying a "rich" meal of toast and jelly. I groaned, stretching a bit and then going about my daily routine. In about fifteen minutes, I was ready. I had to work at the restaurant today with Minako.

"You look enervated," Motoki observed. "Rough night?"

I shrugged. Every night for the past six years, I have watched myself interact with that three-year-old... I have pictured the encounter, molded a vague image of her, and rekindled the hope that she would return to me. It's like a slow-moving film strip playing in my head. The ending is always the same, but each time, something changes. The girl and I grow a bit older. And last night, she was seventeen. I'm not sure what that means, but I suppose it's progress. If only she weren't so blurry...

Motoki nodded, understanding flashing in his eyes. "I'm sorry about Hana. I should have told her that you weren't the kind of guy who would move that fast. I guess Minako and I just wanted to help you."

I offered him a smile, brushing my hand. "Don't worry about it."

It was all in the past; why fret over it?

He didn't say anything else about that topic, however, about twenty seconds later, he swiftly stared at the watch on his arm. "Oh God, I'm going to be late for my shift at the arcade."

I laughed at him. It was always hilarious to see Motoki when he was late. In a matter of moments, he would be dodging traffic and pedestrians, trying to make it to the building on time before his boss fired him.

"How late are you?"

He cursed under his breath. "Twenty-five."

I laughed some more before I realized that that would mean it was 8:25. My shift at the restaurant started only five minutes after Toki left. Wonderful. I was twenty minutes late.

About half a second later, the two of us were rushing out the door, squabbling and yelping as if the speed of our mouths could somehow magically transfer us to our places of employment.

---

I would have made it relatively on time. Well, as on time as one could be after being over twenty minutes late. But in the middle of my spurious 'dodging traffic' tactic, this slip of a girl rammed into me. Hard. I swear, she practically knocked me over.

"Hey, watch it!" I shouted, not in the mood.

"Why don't you watch it, you imbecile? I was the one walking on the street and you were the idiot jumping over cars and people!"

I didn't want to argue with her, but something about her just made my mouth run without consulting my brain first. "What are you talking about, you..." I hadn't been too eloquent at the moment, but I wasn't going to let her win the verbal competition. I tried to come up with an insult that hadn't been hackneyed to death a million times, but there weren't many left for me to use, and if there were, my mind was too numb upon collision to think of them. I glanced at her for a split second, noting her determined stance, aggressive gaze, and clenched fist. A smile made its way over my face as my eyes rested upon the oddest hairstyle I had ever seen. I swear, it looked like she had a pair of meatballs sitting on her head. "...Odango Atama?"

If I thought she was angry at me before, then she must have been internecine now. She let out a low growl, or maybe it was a muffled scream. Whatever it was, it almost made me want to run for cover.

"You incorrigible asshole! Seriously, what the hell is your problem?"

I bet she would have released a far more colorful string of curses, but she looked as if she were late for something as well (she was glancing at her watch from the corner of her eye). I decided to end the tirade with a smile and a laugh. Though maybe that was encouraging her to pummel me with one of her many behemoths of bags.

She glared at me with her icy blue eyes. The two of us were on the ground, her bags (the girl had like five of them--where did she come from: the mall?) sprawled everywhere. I would have tried to help her, but the way she was looking at me didn't make the option very inviting. And I'm almost positive she reached toward her shoe to throw it at me.

After brushing the dirt off my jeans, I got up to carry on with my bolting, but before I did, I took another look at her. She was still fuming, and I might have been seeing things, but it definitely looked like she had smoke coming out of her ears. I grinned. What an odd girl.

---

I walked into the restaurant at 8:45. Forty minutes late--that had to be a record for me. I was never late. It was like this unwritten rule. Sighing, I took my place behind the cash register beside Minako, who had probably gotten there two hours before me. She wasn't much for punctuality, but the restaurant was something of a family business, and she had always taken the job seriously.

"Look who the cat dragged in." She smiled.

I growled.

Upon my lack of an explanation, she continued. "Mamoru, you look like you got run over by a bus and died."

Insert expletive here.

"Seriously, why on earth are you so late? I suppose I'll let it go this one time, but that's just because I'm a very forgiving person." She giggled, still waiting for an answer.

I covered my head with my hands. Okay, so maybe I did look like I was eaten alive or something, but she didn't have to comment. It was common courtesy, I tell you. Then again, Minako lived to torment me and make my life as painfully agonizing as possible, so it was just normal for her.

"Mamoru," she jeered.

I sighed again. "Fine. I was dodging traffic with Motoki, since we both woke up late this morning, but this girl pummeled me to the ground."

She arched a brow. "A girl?" She stared for a moment, before relieving herself of all the laughter building up. I should have known what was going on in that tiny little brain of hers, because as soon as she was able to speak coherently again, I heard her say, like it was the most exhilarating news of the century, "Chiba Mamoru was doing the deed!"

I blinked dumbly. "Wha--?"

And of course, she felt the need to elaborate. "You were... And she was... And oh my God, I've got to tell Rei!"

I groaned, inwardly sending the morning blonde obloquies. Why me?

---

At around three o' clock, I waved to Mina and headed for the arcade. It was a ritual of sorts. Motoki and I would go our separate ways every Saturday, but since he worked longer than I did, I would meet him at three for coffee and junk. Not in the mood to be run over by oncoming traffic (three was the 'busy hour'--traffic didn't ease until midnight), I decided to take the scenic route, walking at a leisurely pace. This time of day was always a sanctuary for me.

Especially after the bedlam Mina caused at the restaurant. I wanted to scream just thinking about it. After her little outburst, she not only had the attention of anyone in the restaurant I happened to know, but the attention of one Hino Rei. Don't get me wrong, Rei was a "delightful" person. She and I did karate together, and she helped her grandfather out at the temple. The main problem with her lay in the fact that she was Minako's best friend, and as such, she was the world's biggest gossip. In mere seconds, my reputation was marred (well, it already was damaged when I was known as the Don Quixote of Japan chasing windmills without a name--a reference to my dreams and the girl I knew I loved) and the entire country knew of my illicit nightly activities. I shuddered. Motoki would probably have a field day with this one (heaven knows, Minako already did).

I guess since I wasn't used to people taking this route (the most I ever saw were birds and flies), I didn't really watch ahead. But admitting this would mean that the collision that followed was entirely my fault. You see, I was walking silently, minding my own business, when this truculent force knocked me right over. All I saw was a sea of gold around me before I felt a warm body draped over mine. I moaned, ready to apologize to whomever it was, but I immediately paused as I caught a glimpse of her. It was the same girl from the morning. I was not the kind of guy who went looking for fights, and I'd always given women the utmost respect, but after the Mina incident, my head had taken a bit too many wounds. Plus, something about the girl just nettled me.

"Kill anyone else today, Odango Atama? Or am I your only victim?"

There was that glare again.

"You insufferable pig. You're a stalker, aren't you? 'Nee-chan warned me about your type: the idiotic dumbass who goes around picking on innocent little girls. You people sicken me."

I laughed. I had to give her credit. She sure was a quick-witted one.

"You're stalking me, aren't you?"

"Why on earth would I waste my time deliberately running into a little girl like you?" It wasn't a scathing remark, but after knocking her over twice, I was feeling a bit generous.

She clenched her fist. "Because you're a low-life jerk with nothing better to do?" she challenged.

I shook my head. She might have been trying to aggravate me, but I didn't want to actually bully the girl. Offering her a smile, I just got up and started walking in the direction of the arcade. "Later, Odango Atama."

She was still seething as I left.

---

I sat down on the stool listlessly, waiting for Motoki to finish tending to all his customers. Girls came to the arcade just to see him (he was one of the most popular seniors in school), even though it was already a well-known fact that he was already in a relationship. Bored, I decided to check out some of the newly released video games. Halfheartedly, I settled on "Sailor Moon." As Toki tried to understand the esoteric language of the feminine species, I attempted to dodge evil youma, lightening, and save the day--all dressed as a thin blonde in a short miniskirt. I suppose the game wasn't a bestseller for its originality...

In about ten minutes, Motoki finally took the seat adjacent to mine. "Hey," he greeted, "I figured you needed this." Voila. He produced me my black coffee. Espresso. What wonders caffeine could do for a person.

"Thanks, man. How did you know?"

He sighed, rubbing his neck. He was hiding something; I just knew it. Taking a deep breath, he started to reply. "Well... I don't know what's been going around, but people are talking about you. They said you were at some girl's place last night, and then you knocked her up. And now, you guys are planning to run away to England, where you'll start a family in a cardboard box. I asked Minako about it and she told me that she didn't even know half of what you've been planning. And then some people have this theory that--"

I buried my head under the table, my clenched fist striking the surface so fast and with so much force that the coffee almost spilled on the blathering idiot's head.

"Motoki, I came home with you last night. Unless you're not telling me something, none of that is true."

He laughed dryly. "But Minako said that there was a girl, and that you were with her last night, and that was why you were late today."

"Minako doesn't know a thing. The girl jumps to conclusions faster than Rei gossips."

He seemed to be thinking a moment. "But the girl--"

I sighed, taking a sip of the coffee as a means to give my hands something to do as my mind pondered on strangling him in his own domain. "There was a girl, but not like the way you're thinking, you pervert. After we left this morning, she rammed into me and sent me flying. Tiny thing, but man, the kid's strong. And then I ran into her again on my way here, too. She has the biggest mouth. Keeps trying to insult me. It's like an explosion goes off every time she sees me. The girl is insane!"

Motoki watched in amusement, his eyes twinkling.

I blanched. Nothing good could come of that look. He was up to something. Something undeniably asinine was going on in his malicious little mind. "Oh no... What are you up to?"

"You have a crush! Chiba Mamoru has a crush on a girl who completely despises him!"

My cheeks colored. What the hell? "I do not!" The guy needed to learn how to serve his customers. You do not go around spreading shit about your friends, let alone the people making sure he earned a paycheck.

He grinned. "You definitely do! You think she's hot, and you get tongue-tied just looking at her. And now you're in love."

I hated how my two closest friends were complete morons.

"I most certainly am not!"

The taunting ensued.

My head-banging followed.

The girl was now getting mental darts thrown at her.

---

After he had grown tired of teasing me about the stupid ordeal, hours passed and I decided to head back to the apartment. He would meet me there in fifteen minutes (he had his car with him, so even after he closed, he'll probably get there just around the same time I did). Just as I was out the door, he told me that his cousin from America was visiting. I don't remember the details or why she would even come alone to the other side of the world, but he told me that she would be staying in the spare room we had. I didn't mind all that much. I owed the Furuhatas a lot more than a spare room after all the help they gave me as a child, so the least I could do was welcome another member of their family into our 'home.'

I went back the same way I came. Only this time, the area was loaded with people. Girls were shopping at the many boutiques, and guys were following them, either carrying bags or trying to ask one of them out. The area I was from was very banal. Everything that happened already had occurred, and everyone was practically the same. I liked to think that I was the one man out of the bunch, but I wasn't even sure that was true. After living in one place for so long, you start to become 'one of the crowd', whether you want to or not. It wasn't really avoidable.

The closer I got to my apartment complex, however, I started to notice something quite odd. A tiny flicker of gold seemed to be trailing me in the crowd. Sending it a cursory glance, I realized that it wasn't an it, but a she. That girl who seemed to be stalking me. I was going to go over there and demand to know what on earth she wanted, but after taking note of all the other people walking in the same direction, I decided not to say a word. Fifteen minutes later and the same little tendrils of hair trailed behind me. I think she noticed me now, but like me, she decided that any form of badinage would lead to some form of verbal pugnacity. Recanting all the insults I buffeted at her did cross my mind as the two of us headed seemingly in the same direction, but I decided against it. I was having an off day, and I guess I was rude to her, too. It was actually quite out of character for me--to deliberately infuriate a girl, but I had to let out my frustrations in some way, and it seemed like a good idea at the time. Besides, she kind of looked cute when she was furious.

Maybe some sirens should have gone off in my head that something was amiss when the two of us walked into the same building. She still had every one of her many bags in tow, and the same determined expression vivid in her eyes. She proceeded to utter nothing to me, though I could feel the heat of her fiery eyes searing holes into my back. We walked through the same lobby, into the same elevator, and then the same hallway. By this time, the situation was becoming too aberrant for my liking, but I didn't want to just outlandishly go up to the girl and demand to know if she was indeed trailing me. I walked down my hallway and to my apartment door. I could still hear the sounds of her footsteps behind me as I entered. I sighed in relief. So the kid wasn't some inane stalker.

"Hey, what took you so long?"

I looked up to see Motoki ogling me as if I was the most abnormal thing he had ever seen.

Not wanting to go into it, I brushed it off. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing." Internally, I thanked the heavens.

He stared at me for a while, before telling me he had to go fix up dinner. "My cousin's going to be here any second, okay? So keep an eye out for her."

I nodded mutely before washing up and changing into some slacks. Once I was comfortably situated in my room, I heard the doorbell in the distance. Ready to welcome another Furuhata into the place, I got up and went to answer the door.

My jaw flew open. On the other side awaited the cumbersome girl from the morning.

She flagrantly scowled at me.

"You!"

Motoki instantaneously came out of the kitchen to see what the commotion was about. He rubbed his head, not quite understanding what was going on. "Usagi? You made it!" he smiled, sending me surreptitious looks through the corner of his eye. He wanted me to shut up and help the girl with her luggage.

I screamed.

Oh hell.

Okay, I haven't written anything in over a year, and I haven't update this story in about a year and a half. I'm sorry for readers who are waiting for updates to this fic, Ethereal Beauty, Tsuki no Romansu, or Beyond Words. It's just that I'm going into my senior year of high school next year and also battling five AP courses (this year I had three), so there is minimal time for updates. I am trying though. This summer, hopefully, you guys get updates to some of my fics with only prolgoues. I'm going to try not to write anything else new, and I'm going to try to finish Tsuki, and write more chapters to everything else. Thanks to all of you who have been waiting patiently, and to new readers, thank you for reading and feel welcome to check out anything else I have written.

Oh, and another thing I figured I might as well advertise here. To anyone who is familiar with my story "Embracing the Rain." Thank you for supporting me and the story, so much that it has actually been nominated for a Sailor Moon Fanfiction Award. It would mean a lot to me if you voted for it at http/awards. under the angst category.

Anyway, thanks for reading. Any comments, questions, suggestions, and recommended areas of improvement are welcome.

Edit: Before anyone says anything, I am aware that the prologue is written in the third person, while this chapter in the first. Every chapter will be written in the first person (Mamoru's POV), minus the prologue because it is a dream/memory. It's just a way to open up the entire story, and it's not necessarily the exact memory Mamoru remembers because it isn't squite as blurry. Just thought I would clear that up before it becomes an issue. And Mina and Minako... In this story, he calls Minako Mina as a nickname. It's a not a mix of the dubbed and Japanese names. Just thought I would tell you guys before you critiqued. Oh, and one last thing... There are quotes around the definition of dreams because it was somewhat directly taken from dictionarydotcom.

Double Edit: Sorry, a reviewer pointed out a few typos and grammar mistakes I made that I had to correct and repost. Sorry for those of you thinking I updated that fast. It's simply not possible.