21. Homemade gift

Alicia Blade

581 words

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

Mamoru chewed on the inside of his cheek, furrowing his brow in disbelief. A moment of silence hung between him and Motoki, before he shook his head and spouted, "But seriously, are you sure?"

Rolling his eyes, Motoki pushed the gift toward Mamoru, almost dumping it off the table into his lap before the black-haired man hastily caught him, and just as hastily set it back on the table before releasing it as if it had burned him.

"Yes, I'm positive. She said it was for you. Quite clearly."

"What were her exact words?"

Motoki paused to think, before reciting, "'Motoki-onii-san, could you do me a big favor and give this to Mamoru-baka when he comes in?' And I said yes and put it underneath the counter and she left, end of story."

With a frustrated sigh, Mamoru leaned forward to get a closer look at the gift, still seemingly afraid to touch it, before slumping back in the bench. "But why? Why would she give this to me?"

The clerk shrugged, a smug grin on his lips. "Well… either this is her way of calling a truce between you two, or…"

"Or…?"

Motoki turned away, smiling out the window. "Or maybe she has a crush on you."

Mamoru guffawed at the idea, but couldn't deny that Motoki could very well have a point. After all, it wasn't exactly the kind of gift that one gives away to just anybody. And he found it equally difficult to deny that a humble, soft-spoken little piece of him almost wished that it was true. Usag crushing on him? The very thought made his heartbeat speed up and a blush rise up in his cheeks. He guffawed again in hopes that Motoki didn't notice. But his friend smirked at him with an irritating couldn't-be-fooled look.

"So… what am I supposed to do now?" Mamoru mumbled, eyeing the little gift.

"I would think that the proper thing to do would be to give her something in return. Assuming, of course, you reciprocate."

"Reciprocate what?"

Laughing, Motoki shook his head and stood from the booth, calling over his shoulder, "That is the question, isn't it?"

…

"Mama, are you sure?"

"Yes, honey, I'm sure."

Usagi glanced down at the little wrapped package, her heart beating furiously. "But seriously, are you sure?"

Setting one hand on her hip, Ikuko frowned at her daughter. "Usagi, I already told you everything I know. A nice young man came to the door, he was very tall and handsome, he said his name was Mamoru, and he asked me to give that to you. Now are you going to open it or not?"

With trembling hands, Usagi forced herself to unwrap the present, scared nearly to tears. She wouldn't be able to stand the devastation if he'd returned her gift to her…

Finally, the plain brown wrapping paper fell off and she pulled the lid off of a little box.

Her breath caught. Her eyes widened.

Dear Usagi-chan, the card read, It isn't as perfect as yours, but I wanted to thank you and this was the best I could do. It is a great picture of us, isn't it? Yours, Mamoru.

But the little picture frame with the stickers, glue stains, mismatched buttons and seashells and ribbons, and the picture inside of her and Mamoru arguing with each other on a rainy afternoon was the most perfect thing she'd seen in all her life.