Sailor Moon–beautiful, powerful, and faceless–had become the star of Mamoru's dreams. When her arms encircled him in the elevator, just as they had in the park, she was no longer shrouded in mystery. He still couldn't make out any of her features, but at least now he knew the identity of his elevator companion.

Thankfully, the nightmare that had evolved from the dream had not made a reappearance since last week's attack.

While Sailor Moon herself was still an enigma, Mamoru was feeling surprisingly cheerful. The scars on his back had begun to heal, and he could finally walk without any trace of that embarrassing limp.

He was also happy his professor had canceled his afternoon class in lieu of more study time. After diligently using the hour for its intended purpose, he strolled through the sliding doors of Crown with a grin on his face. He instinctively glanced toward Usagi's usual booth, ready for a friendly spar of words, but found it empty. That was a bit disappointing.

If it hadn't been for her signature blonde odangos, he wouldn't have noticed her sitting by herself in the back booth. That was certainly a first. Usagi was always surrounded by friends and lively chatting, or face deep in a basket of fries. But today she sat alone, deep in the corner, her food barely touched. She had an elbow resting on the table and she balanced her head on her fist, face cast down to the textbook she was clearly not reading.

Something was off. The sight of the normally bubbly blonde looking so defeated was jarring to Mamoru. Usagi gave off an aura of pain, inner turmoil, loss: What was going on with her?

Though Usagi's eyes were hidden behind her fist, the quivering of her lower lip caught Mamoru's breath, and the tear that escaped from behind her hand ran down her cheek so fast, if he wasn't looking he never would have seen it.

Mamoru had been witness to Usagi's dramatics for years. Her shrill wailing when they were younger had rarely resulted in actual tears. She'd go from howling about a test one minute to laughing hysterically with her friends the next. This was different. Usagi had always been free with her emotions, he had never seen her try to hide them as she was now, crying quietly to herself, all alone.

He should leave her be. He knew it. Whatever was going on in Odango's life was none of his business, and even if he tried to cheer her up, he'd probably just make it worse, going by his 0 for 1,000 track record with her.

But Mamoru also knew that if he walked out the door, her hunched over form would haunt him for the rest of the day, week, or whenever he saw her smile again. He couldn't explain it, but he couldn't let her just sit there and suffer.

Approaching carefully, as if she were made of glass, he summoned up the first quip that came to mind.

"You know, you're supposed to turn the pages when the words run out."

Usagi visibly stiffened at the sound of his voice, and he braced himself with whatever retort she was sure to throw his way.

But, in what was probably a first for Usagi, she sat mute and unmoving.

The silence between them was almost unbearable.

"You alright, Odango?" He asked tentatively.

"Go away." Her plea was so quiet and weak that he almost didn't hear it.

Mamoru's resulting chuckle sounded forced even to his own ears. "That's all you have for me today?" It was tactless, and he regretted the words the instant they spilled from his lips.

"Please, go away," she repeated, her words more forceful while still keeping her eyes hidden and downcast.

After another awkward pause, Usagi let out a shaky exhale. "I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I just don't have it in me today."

Her reluctance to spar with Mamoru or even look at him raised alarm bells. Not once had she ever passed up a chance to give him hell, often gravitating towards him just to make it happen. It had been annoying when they were younger, but now, Mamoru actually kind of liked it.

He remembered Ami's harsh words to him the previous week. Usagi is under a great deal of pressure right now. I can't blame her for being a little out of it. What kind of pressure could an 18-year-old girl possibly be enduring, and for it to be enough to strip her of the sunshine that always seemed to drip from every pore?

The silence between them stretched uncomfortably long, and Mamoru forced himself to voice the first thought that came to mind just to break it.

"Everything good?" He asked pathetically.

Usagi raised her head from her hands, but deliberately avoided his gaze. Mamoru could see the storm in her eyes, the pink flush surrounding them, and the dark circles beneath that gave the impression she was losing the sleep she found so precious.

She was a wreck.

"I asked you to leave," she stated pointedly.

"And I asked you what's wrong," he countered.

She jerked her face in his direction, her tortured eyes a darker, more vivid blue than normal. "No, you grunted 'everything good?' like the caveman you are."

Mamoru couldn't control the smile that tugged at his lips, listening to her deepen her voice in a mocking way as she repeated his words. He knew if she whacked him upside the head right now, he'd deserve it.

"There you are, Odango," he drawled. "I was actually starting to miss you."

Usagi's shoulders stiffened and her jaw tensed, but her face remained set in stone.

"Well, I'm so sorry to cause you any ounce of pain." The sarcasm dripped from her tone. "I must have temporarily forgotten that my life and my very existence revolves around some stupid man who gets off on kicking people when they're down."

One thick tear escaped from the corner of her eye, despite how she was clearly fighting to keep it locked away. She swiped at it angrily, smearing a salty line across her cheek before practically shouting her next words.

"I don't want to talk to you!"

Usagi's words cut him in a way they never had before. Despite their years of banter, they'd never had a real fight, and she'd never said anything to actually hurt his feelings.

But today, the cruelty laced into every word was rooted in very real anger, but deeply hurtful. He was frustrated she was lashing out, unleashing her stress completely on him. It pissed him off even more that she accused him of being the type of person who purposely hurt people he cared about, because as much as he hated to admit it sometimes, he did truly care.

"Is that really what you think of me?" He asked, his voice low and his eyes piercing down into hers.

Usagi's eyes darkened, and her lips closed into a thin, tight line. Mamoru had accomplished exactly what he knew he would: massively fuck up his attempt to comfort her and make her hate him even more. If he was a better man, he would apologize and try to fix this. Maybe even listen to her for once. But he wasn't. He was still a coward who was as clueless to this girl–this woman–as he had always been.

So he bailed.

"Hope you get it sorted out," he muttered and turned on his heel to leave her behind.

Or, at least, he would have left her behind if not for the soft tug of his jacket sleeve yanking him back to loom directly over her. Mamoru looked down at her, his shock evident on his features. But Usagi didn't meet his gaze. She kept it locked on her own fingers curled around his sleeve, as if equally shocked by her action. Then she seemed to crumble, burying her forehead into his arm, a silent plea for him to stay.

Usagi had swallowed her pride and asked him for help. If she needed a shoulder to cry on, he would stay with her until the tears had all dried up.

He gave a quick glance to the counter to ensure that Motoki, as expected, had been keeping an eye on them ever since Usagi had raised her voice. The blond man's brow furrowed, his older brother senses tingling. Without alerting Usagi, Mamoru signaled for a milkshake to be brought to the table. Motoki held his gaze, then jerked his chin up in agreement and got to work.

Turning back to the frozen girl beneath him, he brought his hand to where hers was curled around his sleeve and gave it a gentle squeeze. At his touch, Usagi let out a small gasp, then reluctantly loosened her fingers as he slipped into the booth across from her.

"So, are you going to tell me what's wrong then?" he asked. "Problem with your friends? Problem with a boy?"

Usagi's surprise shifted to confusion, a crease forming between her eyebrows. So that was the issue, wasn't it?

"You called me a stupid man," he clarified. Her declaration had seemed too pointed not to be redirected anger towards another guy. He didn't like the thought. "I assume I'm not the only stupid man in your life giving you hell."

An adorable flush colored her cheeks as she shook her head.

"It's not like that," she said softly.

"Come on, Odango, if I'm going to kick someone's ass, I need a name."

Usagi snorted at his empty threat. "Seriously, that's not what's going on."

Mamoru thought back to the handful of guys he had ever seen with Usagi. Was it that punk with the tattoos and messy white hair? He was the most memorable looking of the bunch, even though he seemed like a total space cadet. Or was it some new guy Mamoru hadn't seen before?

Then he remembered…the petite girl with purple hair and big eyes. Usagi had been more than friendly with her for a few weeks. Was she…?.

"Oh–" he sputtered, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment at his oversight. "What–what's her name then?"

Usagi stared blankly at him. Then, to his utter shock, she threw her head back with laughter. It was a belly laugh, loud and straight from the stomach, bursting with an unfettered joy. Suddenly the coil of jealousy in his body was burning with something else–something much softer.

"It's…not like that either," she giggled, dabbing away a tear–a happy tear–with a napkin. "I promise. You're more observant than I gave you credit for, Baka."

His heart fluttered at the sound of his nickname.

"I know it's incredibly male of me, but it's hard to forget seeing two women holding hands."

"Rei and Minako do it all the time…do you watch them?" She challenged.

"Huh," was his only answer for a moment. He supposed those two were rather affectionate with each other, but he hadn't given their relationship more than a passing thought. "I guess they do."

"That didn't answer my question," she prodded, leaning toward him. "Do you watch them?"

Mamoru tried to act casual and slung his arm across the top of his seat. "No, I don't."

Usagi's eyes narrowed and her voice dropped lower. "But you watched me and Kae?"

Fuck. She had baited him and he walked right into her trap. Mamoru had pissed her off earlier and now she was getting her revenge. Could he dig himself out of this without revealing the utter humiliation that yes, he had watched Usagi with her ex-girlfriend? That he had deeply suppressed a quiet panic that he would never have her because he didn't have the right equipment, and that he was secretly, shamefully relieved the next time he saw her with a guy?

"That's incredibly male of you." She leaned back triumphantly in her seat, breaking his silent reverie. Their eyes had remained locked throughout the exchange, the tension charged with something new between them. He expected to find smug satisfaction in her gaze at being the victor, but her expression was soft. She looked…flattered.

Motoki sidled up to the table–milkshake in hand–before Mamoru had a chance to respond.

"Looked like you two might be in need of a referee," Motoki said as he placed the glass on the table. Usagi visibly blushed. "Consider this my offering for you two to make peace."

Before turning back toward the kitchen, he caught Mamoru's gaze and winked.

Never one to turn down food, Usagi automatically reached for a straw, but Mamoru was quick to slide the milkshake in his direction.

"Oh, this is for me," he teased. One corner of his mouth lifted at her pout. He let out a mock sigh. "I guess if you want some, though…" he relented, sliding the glass back to the center of the table.

Realization dawned on Usagi's face. That Mamoru had ordered the milkshake for her. God, when did he become so transparent?

"That's…" she searched for her words. "..surprisingly thoughtful of you." She broke the tension by tearing off one end of her straw wrapper and blowing the other end at his face.

"What makes you think I'm not thoughtful?" Mamoru chuckled as he grabbed a straw of his own.

Usagi shrugged. "Never seen it until now." She dug her straw into the shake and brought her lips to it. The soft moan that escaped her was almost lewd, but maybe it was just Mamoru's imagination. Seeing her lips wrapped around the straw and sucking…

She released the straw with a pop and licked her lips. "The first sip is always the best," she mused.

"Well I wouldn't know, since you stole it," Mamoru countered, trying to ignore the heat rising on the back of his neck.

Usagi rolled her eyes. "Your first sip, dummy. Not the first one."

He raised a brow at her, slipping his straw into the shake and taking one long pull. He barely tasted its sweetness, aware of her eyes watching his every move.

"Fine," he conceded. "You win."

She beamed back at him, her smile nearly reaching her eyes. Lost in her presence, Mamoru had almost forgotten how their conversation had started. Though Usagi had brightened considerably, her eyes still drooped with exhaustion and were dull in comparison to her usual self. He liked the feeling of cheering her up, and if this problem–this pressure–she was under could be fixed, Mamoru would do anything in his power to make it happen.

"So, what's going on?" He asked. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Her bright smile faded as quickly as it came, her lips pressing into a thin line. Resigned, she shook her head.

"Not really," she said.

Liar, he thought. Mamoru didn't know why he thought it. Maybe it was the quiet desperation behind her eyes. Was it a silent plea for help? Did she need him for something she was too afraid to voice out loud?

"Is there…" He treaded carefully. "Something going on at home? Do you need–?"

Usagi quickly shook her head again. "No, nothing like that. Home is probably the only stability I have right now."

Mamoru could certainly relate to the chaotic feeling of no stability. He was also thankful she had interrupted him. Without even thinking, he had nearly offered her a place to stay, and that was an endeavor he was in no way prepared to handle.

"Stressed about school?" He pushed, noting the opened textbook she had pushed aside.

"Why do you want to know so bad?" She countered. The look she was giving him wasn't demanding, but almost pleading. Mamoru didn't think he would ever understand this girl.

"I just want to know if you're in some sort of trouble," he answered honestly. "It's weird seeing you like this."

"Like what?" That crease between her brows appeared again.

Mamoru shrugged. "You're usually way up here." He lifted his hand above his head. "But today you seem pretty low."

"Oh," was all she said in response.

"Is there anything I can do?"

Those deep, sapphire eyes burned him, assessing him, digging to the deepest depths of his soul and flaying him into a man he didn't recognize.

"No," she said softly. "This isn't your problem."

Usagi was stubborn, and it truly was none of his business, but Mamoru couldn't let this go, not if that haunted look in her eyes remained in place.

"Can you do anything to distract yourself?" He pressed on. "Sometimes taking a step away and not thinking about it for a while can help you find the answer, or at least help you escape for a couple hours."

He braced himself for what he would say next, but didn't stop long enough to fully think it through. "Do you want to see a movie?"

Usagi gave a weak smile and shook her head once again. "I don't like going to the movies by myself, and all my friends are busy."

His jaw tightened. Okay…Was that a flat out rejection or did she misunderstand?

"Well, I'm not doing anything this afternoon." Mamoru ignored the sudden pounding of his heart, desperately attempting to sound nonchalant; unattached. "I know I'm not your favorite person, but if you don't want to go alone, I can tag along."

Usagi stared blankly at him. The longer she held his gaze, the more heat he felt in his face and ears. Minutes, hours, years seemed to pass as he waited for her to say something, anything. Even if she laughed at him and called him a big, ugly ogre, it would be better than this miserable, torturous anticipation.

"Is Satan building a snowman outside or are you asking me out?"

Of all the fucking things he had expected her to say…

"I'm sorry?" Was all he could muster.

Usagi started to giggle, more of a nervous chuckle than her usual cheerful laugh. "I just thought Hell would freeze over before you ever wanted to be seen with me."

Mamoru cocked an eyebrow at her. "I'm seen with you all the time."

"Yeah, but I mean–" She gestured around them. "Somewhere not…here."

Guilt gnawed at his gut. Of course he had given her that impression. He'd done nothing but tease her when they were younger, and as they grew up he'd constantly brushed her off as if she were a mosquito buzzing around his head.

Just like he'd done last week before the attack.

As those big, blue eyes stared at him from across the table, with that mouth slightly upturned just enough to keep its secrets inside, Mamoru felt decidedly different.

"Yes," he conceded. "I'm asking you to a movie. Do you want to go or not?"

The air between them sparked with electricity, their locked gazes a battle between his anticipation and whatever storm of emotions raged behind her eyes.

"On one condition," she said, a rare seriousness in her tone.

"What's that?"

Her face flushed cherry red. "You have to call me Usagi."

Relief crashed through Mamoru's lungs and his heart stuttered at the implication of ditching their nicknames.

"Fine," he smiled genuinely. "Then you have to call me Mamoru."

I truly didn't mean to go so long without an update. It was supposed to be a small break to write for Rare Pair and Dendy weeks, but then all hell broke loose. I lost my dad very unexpectedly. My family and I have been grieving and trying our best to cope. I'm now a full-time caregiver for my sibling with special needs, and as a result I'm in the process of moving closer to home. So while updates on this fic might be more sparse, they are coming. I love this story too much to stop writing it. Thank you all for your support and loving this story as much as I do