Thank you to everyone who has read/commented on this story of mine! It means a lot!
AO3 is my primary site for posting FF, so you can also find me there under the same name.

While I am posting this chapter only a few days since the first, I probably won't post more than once per week or so. Work and personal life is starting to pick up so chapters are taking longer to come out. Still, this story is pretty much written but the OG chapters I wrote have essentially turned into extensive outlines which I have been either rewriting or expanding upon.

This story has been months in the making and I couldn't be happier with how it's turning out.

This chapter will probably be the shortest of all the chapters. While I don't want each chapter to be a novel, I am personally a fan of having longer but fewer chapters. That's what I prefer to read so that's how I'm writing it.

Chapter 2: Confession
Summary: Sometimes words are really overrated

He was nervous around Usagi for the first time, his words at times stumbling and stilted, sentences cut off and left unfinished.

Thankfully, Motoki was somehow never near the counter when it happened, because Mamoru was certain he'd never hear the end of it. But Usagi was left horribly confused, sometimes the corner of her mouth pulling down as she quietly stared at him while he tried to recover. The time she asked if he was OK, with her tilted head and soft voice, Mamoru wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

He was losing this battle with himself. There were only so many conversations two people could have about school, homework, and his lack of interest in arcade games despite his persistent presence in an arcade.

Why are words so hard?

Whenever he did have what he perceived to be a somewhat normal conversation with Usagi, he over-analyzed everything she said, searching for hidden meanings.

While her emotions were becoming more difficult to passively read, there was one thing he knew for certain: Usagi was still very much attracted to him. But he didn't need a sixth sense to figure that out. There were her frequent blushes, or the multiple times he caught her staring from where she sat in the booth she shared with her friends.

But it wasn't enough. A lot of people were attracted to him, a thought which passed through his mind without ego. That attraction resulted in the numerous confessions and unwanted touches he'd been suffering since he hit puberty.

And her attraction to him doesn't mean a thing if she never acts on it.

She must like him well enough as a person, right?

Usagi was always the one making the effort to connect, first with their walks to school, and later, her trips up to the counter to order despite knowing Motoki would eventually come by their table.

So what did that mean?

Maybe she just wasn't interested in dating.

Or wasn't allowed to date yet and didn't want to disobey her parents.

Or, maybe she liked how things were currently between them (whatever this was) and wasn't interested in anything romantic with him.

What he said to her all those weeks ago was true: the uncertainty of feelings was better than the finality of rejection. He knew, without a doubt, that he could not handle being rejected by her. Maybe it was selfish, but he cherished her company and the light her brightness brought to his life, so would rather stay on the periphery of her orbit than be ejected from it completely.

And that was how, for the very first time in his life, Mamoru learned the shoe was on the other foot. Despite his nightly escapades against the forces of evil, he now understood that all those girls who took the chance to confess, only to be rejected, were far braver than he could ever be.

o0o

"Mamoru-kun!"

He looked up from his book and turned around, surprised to find a harried Usagi running up behind him. She tripped on a crack in the sidewalk, but he was there to catch her, so she was furiously blushing when he helped her regain her footing.

"I… um… The girls all have stuff to do today so I was wondering if you…" She paused when she noticed the confused tilt of his head but continued on, this time with her eyes glued to her feet, "...if you wanted to go for a walk in the park.

"With me," she hurriedly added, her flush having faded into a pretty shade of pink.

Mamoru's eyes widened with his shock.

Was Usagi….
Was she asking him out?

He had intended to spend his Crown-free afternoon preparing note cards for his upcoming physics test since the Dark Kingdom was taking up so much of his free time as of late, but the thought of spending an afternoon alone with Usagi pushed away all thoughts of tests and study guides.

Unfortunately, he hesitated too long, and her smile and her shoulders fell. "It's... uh, I mean..." Her hand scratched awkwardly at her head. "if you don't wan-"

"No!" Usagi jumped at his tone and he internally cringed. "No, what I mean..." Why was his throat so damn dry? "I'd like to," he finally managed.

He was pretty sure his heart was doing back flips in response to her smile.

Away from the eyes and ears of their friends, Mamoru relaxed, and their banter once again became natural and flowing.

The late-afternoon sun spun gold atop her blonde hair as they walked, glinting with every shift of her head: from her bouncing gait, from lifting those beautiful blue eyes up to his, or from the wild, exaggerated gesturing of her hands as she spoke.

Usagi was her usual animated, luminous self, and Mamoru had to tighten his grip on the handle of his bag to resist the sudden urge to grasp one of her hands in his so he could better share in her excitement.

They stopped to watch the ducklings when they reached the lake, and he leaned his forearms onto the railing, his hands clasped together in front of him, as he watched her squeal with delight as they swam and played together – no longer babies but not yet grown; still shedding their baby feathers. Usagi's voice was high with her excitement, and her very being was wide open, her eyes and smile bright with joy.

He lost count of the number of times he opened his mouth only to immediately close it again. What does he say? He knows what is traditionally said as he'd probably heard every variation of it over the last few years and by now could recite it by memory. But none of it felt right.

In the end, he floundered. When he trudged back to his apartment after they said their goodbyes and went their separate ways – both had awkwardly lingered before finally departing, which he dwelled on for days afterwards – he banged the back of his head on the door in frustration as he cursed his cowardice.

It became a regular thing, meeting in the park after school if her friends had after school commitments, so he had ample opportunity to confess, yet blew each one.

He told himself it was because she never said a word about her feelings. The sound of her voice filled so much of their time together, and he couldn't get enough, was satisfied with simply listening and feeling. But not once did she give any indication that she felt the same way about him as he did her.

In truth, he was still afraid. Afraid of rejection, afraid she would then leave, taking with her positive emotions and brightness, and his dreary world would be covered in a greater darkness than before she arrived.

Really, it was because he was selfish.
And a coward.

And so, more opportunities, both at Crown and the park, came and went, more awkward, lingering goodbyes were exchanged, yet Mamoru said nothing.

And neither did she.

o0o

Usagi was especially spirited this afternoon; beautiful and expressive. She'd earned a passing grade on her history test and reached a new milestone in the Sailor V game, which she excitedly told him all about as she skipped and bounced beside him.

Mamoru listened in resigned silence as he fought to suppress the exquisite ache in his chest caused by his unrequited feelings and regret.

It was now nearly intolerable, this ache, and yet he continued to endure.

His dreams of the mysterious woman begging for the even more mysterious gem were slowly being replaced by dreams of Usagi; visions filled with his desperate yearning to be so much more to each other than they were.

Those dreams were a cruel tease of what could not be.

He had one just last night, of the two of them walking hand in hand along a moonlit path, their fingers loosely interlaced from their assured love and contentment.

Those feelings carried into his wakeful hours, and even now, Mamoru was clenching and unclenching his hand to keep it to himself, to keep from reenacting his dream as they ambled along this secluded path lit by the soft golden glow of the late afternoon sun filtering down between the leaves of the trees.

So lost was Mamoru in the memory and emotions of this dream, he didn't notice Usagi had slowed until the tips of her fingers curled into the crook of his elbow.

His gaze shifted to her bright blue eyes and wide smile.

"Mamoru-kun," she whispered excitedly, "Look!"

His eyes followed her outstretched hand to the rabbit chewing on a blade of grass just outside a line of trees. A fond smile pulled up his mouth at the sight; she really did love rabbits.

As they watched, her hand slid further into the crook of his elbow, squeezing gently as she leaned her head against his arm. "Isn't it just so cute?" She whispered loudly.

But he scarcely heard her over the roar of his heartbeat in his ears.
His face was so warm he must be furiously blushing.

But he couldn't help it.
And he didn't care.

After the day she wrote her number on his hand, Usagi never again intentionally stepped this far into his personal space; at most settling for a quick touch of his arm if she wanted to grab his attention.

And, for the first time since the day he met her, she was completely open to him emotionally. His psychometry immediately latched onto her feelings, which Mamoru felt with astonishing clarity.

Her joy.
Her contentment.
And, most importantly, her affection.

So strong was his relief that he didn't even question how or why she even hid them in the first place. He became afraid to move, afraid to say anything, because he so desperately didn't want her to pull away.

But she did anyway, though her hand remained on his arm even as she stood before him, her eyes and mouth reflecting her concern. "Mamoru-kun? Are you OK? I've been calling your na-"

Her widened eyes fell upon her hand still holding his arm, and she gasped before ripping her hand away as if she had been scorched. "I'm … I'm so sorry," she stammered, her entire face beet red in her embarrassment, "I didn't realize... I... um..."

It was endearing really, her reaction, and it, coupled with this new revelation, emboldened him. Tentative fingers reached up to brush against the flush of her cheek but stilled at her sudden intake of breath. His eyes flew to hers.

"Is this OK?" He asked her quietly.

This is it.

There's no going back from this.

If she said 'no', he would immediately let her go, apologize profusely while backing away, and he would do everything in his power to ensure she would never again have to lay eyes upon him.

But instead, her elation warmed his fingertips and traveled up the length of his arm as her eyes changed and a smile broke out on her face, a smile, he only now realized, was only ever directed at him. Not to her friends, not to Motoki, not to the classmates who so often greeted her at the arcade.

This smile was his.

At her nod his hand palmed her cheek, warm and soft, and he slowly leaned down to kiss her for the very first time. She met him halfway, pushing up onto the balls of her feet, his tie loosely wrapped in her hand. Their free hands found each other, and the fingers interlaced.

He confessed to her not with words but with a kiss; gentle, chaste, and brief.

Afterwards, after he pulled away and his brain remembered how to form words, he held her blue eyes with his and finally whispered the name he had been keeping to himself for weeks, the one only whispered in his dreams. "Usako."

Her eyes widened and lost focus as the meaning of the new nickname swept over her, but after a beat she was back, blushing prettily and gazing up at him in such a way his mouth went dry, and his heart fluttered in his chest.

"Mamo-chan..." His name was whispered with such care, and through that same smile, his smile, that the sound washed over him like a caress, and finally, after weeks of enduring that painful, exquisite ache, it was replaced with a tender warmth.

He didn't hesitate to kiss her again, wrapping his free arm around her waist to pull her closer.

Kissing and holding Usagi was everything he imagined and more: the softness of her lips as they moved against his, the warmth of her body against the hand splayed across her back, and her affection all overwhelmed him in the best possible way.

Usagi was the one to deepen their kiss, pushing herself all the way up to the tips of her scuffed Mary Janes as her hand tugged on his tie to pull him down even lower.

She was just as inexperienced as he was but far more adventurous, and at the hesitant brush of her tongue against his lower lip, he willingly opened himself to her, eager to follow as she took the lead. Her tongue explored slowly, curiously, and when it slid against his for the very first time, the sensation pulled a whimpered moan from his throat and nearly buckled his knees.

But he firmed up his gentle grip around her waist and followed her lead.

She really was an excellent leader.

"Usako, I… " Mamoru stammered after they broke apart and caught their breath. He didn't fight his blush as he tried to force out his words. "I've wanted to confess to you for quite some time."

"What took you so long?" Usagi's smile grew impossibly brighter.

"Honestly? I didn't think you liked me that way." His eyes followed his fingers sifting through her hair, amazed he was able to do this now. The blonde strands were just as silky and soft as he imagined. "You're usually so open about your feelings but you never said anything."

"Seriously, Mamo-chan?" She snorted. "I gave you my number ages ago. You're the dummy who didn't call. I thought you didn't like me that way."

She began playing with his tie as she continued, staring at it instead of him, her voice just above a whisper. "I know I'm younger than you, and my grades... Well, anyway, I wanted to, but I was so scared you'd turn me down, and I'd never see you again."

He couldn't help his laugh. Perhaps he should have tried harder to contain it because she was suddenly concerned, and embarrassed, and very confused, but he couldn't help it. It was ridiculous really, this whole situation. They had been dancing around each other all this time, each apparently waiting for the other to make the first move.

Figures.

"I'm sorry, Usako," he chuckled, squeezing the hand he still held in his. "I don't mean to laugh. It's just..." he felt his face get warm again but he allowed his blush because she needed to see it; forced out his words because she needed to hear them. "It was exactly the same for me."

Her smile spread slowly across her face and her cheeks pinked with it. Her eyes somehow became even more blue as she gazed up at him through her dark lashes.

God, she was beautiful.

His free hand came up to caress her delicate blush and she leaned into it as she tilted her head back and lifted her mouth. Her hand once again wound itself into his tie. "Mamo-chan," she breathed.

He didn't need to be told twice.

As his hand slid into the softness of her hair and her lips parted beneath his with a contented sigh, her hand pressed warmly against his chest while still clutching his tie, he decided he could beat himself up about all the obviously missed signs later.

o0o

They stuck to the park or other out of the way areas, away from the crowded arcade and the eyes of their friends, both eager to explore this new relationship but not yet ready to draw attention to it. As private as he was, he didn't even question it.

They were together, and it was enough for him.

He didn't know it was possible to be this happy. He couldn't get enough of her smile, the feel of her warm hand in his, the way she said the name only she had for him. Her beautiful blue eyes lit up the second she spotted him, and her hand would immediately reach for his as she positioned herself at his side. Her affection managed to overwhelm him in the best way, boosting his mood and keeping away the demons which still sought to wreak havoc on his self-esteem.

Not only was he learning how to love her, he was learning how to love himself.

He walked her home after every date, hand in hand, laughing and talking and smiling, and when they were just out of sight of her house, she would pull him down for a quick goodbye kiss or three before slowly pulling away.

Their hands always separated last.

Sometimes after arriving home, he fell back against his door with a hand to his chest. Sometimes it was still hard to believe that finally, after all this time, after all the pining and regret, he was the love-struck fool, completely besotted with Tsukino Usagi.

Motoki noticed the change in him right away, playfully jabbing his arm with an elbow, and with a wide smirk and raised eyebrows asked about Mamoru's improved mood. But it was still private, and although he was getting closer and closer to suggesting to Usagi that they go public with their relationship, no longer wanting to hide his feelings and so the world would know he was hers, Mamoru shrugged Motoki off with a sly, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

But he definitely had no problem annoying Motoki a little longer.

Yet, despite his happiness, he still didn't feel complete, and worried he would not be able to give all of himself to Usagi and their relationship until he was. The woman in his dreams ramped up her melancholy cries for the Maboroshi no Ginzuishou soon after he started dating Usagi with promises it would provide his missing piece.

This renewed his desire for the Ginzuishou. Weeks had passed since he first set out on his trek to find the mysterious object: weeks of searching, weeks of breaking and entering, weeks of fighting the Dark Kingdom, yet he was no closer to finding it now than when he started.

That desire quickly turned into desperation.

He just needed more help searching, that's all.

So Mamoru pulled out the tape recorder from the back of his closet, and after one last review of his prepared notes, pressed record.