Strap in, this is a long one!
Thank you so much for reading!
Chapter 4: Love
Summary: He supposed they weren't exactly doing this break up thing correctly.
As much as Mamoru may have wanted it to, the world didn't end along with his relationship.
He tried to move on, to pretend they weren't together long enough for it to mean anything; that the only source of true happiness he'd ever known didn't just rip herself from his life with a sob and a graceful leap from his balcony.
But even he knew he was only lying to himself.
Still, he did try.
Despite his broken heart, he showed up to Crown the very next day, sat himself down on his favorite stool, and ordered a cup of coffee to sip on while finishing his homework.
But it hurt; a deep, wrenching kind of pain to the very center of his chest.
Her proximity.
The sound of her voice.
Of her laughter.
He only managed to bear it for two days. At some inexplicable point during his stay, their eyes would meet, and what was once a bright smile either turned strained or dropped from her face altogether.
Mamoru could bear his own heartbreak, but he couldn't bear hers.
So, after those two days of pretending, Mamoru removed himself from her life as much as he dared. This meant no more study sessions at Crown, finding alternate routes to walk to and from school.
But battles were unavoidable.
And knowing Usagi was Sailor Moon changed everything.
Holding her in his arms during a rescue was sweet torture. His hands, as if on autopilot, pulled her too close and clutched too tight. Her fingers, curled into the lapels of his jacket, lingered a beat too long after her feet settled back on the ground.
But her eyes…
Though her feelings were once again hidden from his psychometry, Usagi's eyes were the windows into her soul, displaying her broken heart for the world to see.
And each glimpse into her sorrow delivered a punch straight to the gut.
She was the one to end their relationship, yet he felt responsible. They couldn't be together because of him…
Because of Tuxedo Kamen…
If the senshi noticed anything off between the two, they said nothing.
His studies became his sanctuary, a temporary distraction from his crushing loneliness and heartbreak. Joining a study group had nothing to do with the upcoming exam - he knew the information inside and out - but he needed that distraction; was desperate for some form of companionship. Without it, his life was just like his apartment: silent and empty.
Motoki demonstrated unparalleled tact by not commenting on Mamoru's change in mood nor asking why Mamoru stopped coming to Crown. Gone were the playful jabs and wide smirks, all replaced with sympathetic, understanding smiles and comforting pats on the back.
A small, lonely part of Mamoru wanted to tell him; to have someone to lean on and commiserate with in his time of need, but that would require showing vulnerability and having to explain the unexplainable.
No, Mamoru would do what he always did: bottle it up and suffer in silence.
o0o0o0o
o0o0o
Tuxedo Kamen landed in a graceful crouch beside a startled Sailor Moon, who blindly caught her tiara as her wide eyes locked with his.
"You're here…" she gasped.
"Of course I am," he said, frowning as he stood. "I would never leave you to fight this on your own." His internal cringe at his unfortunate choice of words matched the one pulling down her mouth just as she looked away.
Taking advantage of the awkward silence, Mamoru surveyed the scene: minimal destruction, victim count low at four - a group of friends, Mamoru surmised, based on their matching school uniforms and intertwining auras.
"Usa," he finally said, his heart thumping when he found her glassy blue eyes staring up at him. "What do you need?"
"Well," she mumbled, a finger scratching at her chin as those glassy eyes fell to the ground, "the girls are held up, and I'm not sure when they can get here. I have to weaken it to use the wand, but I haven't been able to hit it with my tiara."
Mamoru directed his gaze back to the youma. What he assumed was its face glared back, its form crackling and sparking with some form of dark electricity.
Though he lacked power of his own, he could serve as a distraction.
Mamoru nodded. "I'm on it."
Working with Usagi one-on-one like this reminded Mamoru of their early days, well before the addition of Sailor Mercury, and a small part of him couldn't help pondering the what if's, namely, what if he had discovered Usagi's secret identity before there were others to bring Tuxedo Kamen's allegiances into question?
Would things be any different than they are now?
Would he have been accepted by Luna and each incoming senshi as a member of the team? Would his invitations to the strategy meetings and post-battle debriefs be a given?
But, and this was the most important, would he be allowed to date Usagi?
With a shake of his head, Mamoru pushed those thoughts away and refocused on the task at hand.
Treading that unknown path would only lead to more heartache.
With time and significant effort, the two were able to weaken the youma, but Usagi sustained a rather severe electrical burn to her right ankle when the youma snatched her out of the sky mid-jump.
Her anguished screams chilled the blood coursing through his veins, stalling his heart and nearly dropping Mamoru to his knees. Usagi being injured with only him as her backup was Mamoru's worst nightmare come to life.
The sharp spike in adrenaline coated the back of his tongue with acrid bile as he staved off his panic, and his heart pounding in his ears when Mamoru raced back to free her.
But Usagi was no damsel in distress.
A trembling hand ripped the tiara off her forehead and hurled away, the effort pulling a low grunt from her throat. Though the throw appeared wild and poorly aimed, the now glowing disc traveled a wide arch before screaming back towards its mistress, slicing through the youma's arm with ease.
Earsplitting screeches and piercing howls punctuated the air as the creature writhed and jumped, clutching at the profusely oozing stump of what used to be its arm.
Mamoru made it back to Usagi just after she crashed to the concrete, immediately pulling her into his arms and away from the flailing youma. He tried to be so careful, but each shift, every small bounce, had Usagi whimpering and clenching her jaw.
Less than a minute later, as he watched Usagi limp herself closer to the youma and call to her power, her expression taut and form off kilter from favoring her right ankle, Mamoru recalled the disparaging comments Usagi made about herself all those weeks ago, comments which made far more sense now that he knew, but her words didn't at all align with his memories of Sailor Moon of that time; of her selfless use of the wand later to save all those affected by his extremely poor lapse in judgment; with how she just rescued herself from a youma and then purified it to dust despite a severely injured leg.
But it also made one thing perfectly clear: she didn't need him like he needed her. He wanted to be more to her, to be strong enough to protect her; to be someone on whom she could rely on and trust.
But his demons came out of hiding from the dark reaches of his psyche and reminded him of his place.
o0o0o
The wailing cry of sirens signaling the arrival of the police and ambulances was their cue to leave.
Having apparently forgotten about her injury, Usagi tried to flee but crumpled with her very first step. This time, Mamoru was there to catch her.
"I've got you," he whispered in her ear. "Don't release your transformation."
Nodding her understanding, Usagi curled her fingers into his jacket and leaned into his chest when he leapt them both to the nearest rooftop, where he settled her down as gently as he could manage before ripping off his mask.
This close, the stench of her burnt, blackened flesh, coupled with the exposed underlying tissues, churned his stomach.
Her ruined boot was removed with the utmost care, but he cursed himself anyway for causing her further pain when she grimaced.
"Mamo- Mamoru-kun, stop. I'll be fine! I'll just have Ami-chan loo-" But his glare, both for her dismissal and to cover his hurt from her use of his full name, had her snapping her mouth closed, her lips pressing together into a thin line.
"Don't ever downplay your injuries to me!" he snapped. "Just because we bro…" With a deep breath, Mamoru pinched the bridge of his nose, once again frustrated at himself and their situation.
"Usa," he started again, his voice taut. "I can feel how much pain you're in, and a wound like this really shouldn't wait." His hand fell away from his face with a sigh, his tone softening from the way her eyes shimmered. "Let me help you. Please?"
"OK," she whispered. Her tears finally fell, heavy and sparkling in the waning daylight. "I'm so sorry, Mamo-chan. I just…" She swallowed, thick and slow. "It really does hurt so much."
"I know," he murmured, certain she wasn't just talking about the wound. "I know."
Unable to help himself, Mamoru's gloved fingers brushed against her cheek before curling under her jaw, leaving his thumb behind to wipe away her tears.
Eyes closing at the contact, Usagi leaned into his hand before covering it with one of her own.
"Stay still, Usa," he instructed gently, trying to ignore the fluttering of his heart from the way she clutched at his arm. "I'm going to take care of your wound now, OK?"
At her wordless nod, a soft golden light glowed in the space between his free hand and her ankle. The healing effect was immediate, but the progress was slow as the burns faded and her skin pulled back together.
"It's warm," she said softly. Her tears slowed as the pain lessened, but her tight grip on his arm kept his hand firmly against her cheek. "I didn't know you could do that."
"You're the only one who does," he told her through a sad smile directed at her injury. "I didn't tell you before because it isn't exactly something you share with people."
Usagi frowned. "Mamo-chan, I'm so-"
"It's fine, Usa," he interrupted. He was so sick of the word 'sorry'. "Really. You had to put your duty above our relationship. I understand." Mamoru's gaze finally returned to her face. "I did the same. Why do you think I was searching for Sailor Moon when I found you?"
When his eyes slid to his hand still resting against her cheek, his thumb resumed its gentle caress. "It was a shock though, finding you instead of her. That draw always brought me to her." Air rushed out his nose in mock amusement. "And yet, I still didn't figure out you were Sailor Moon until I watched you transform."
"Wait, you're drawn to me?" Her eyes were wide, her voice incredulous. "Since when?"
"Since the very beginning." His smile was warm despite everything. "I've always been drawn to Sailor Moon, Usa. How do you think I always know where to go?"
"But what does it mean?" Her quiet voice shook with the fluctuation of her emotions, a dizzying cycle of confusion, regret, hope, and longing.
Mamoru returned to her nearly healed wound. It no longer required his healing ability, but he wasn't ready to let her go just yet. "I don't know," he murmured. "I really don't know."
o0o0o
Mamoru's suggestion to release her transformation and allow him to carry her back down to the ground so she wouldn't risk further injury by jumping down herself wearing only one boot was met with unexpected enthusiasm. He thought nothing of the speed in which she agreed, her faint blush, wide eyes, and clasped hand against her chest.
No, he didn't realize his mistake until the hitch in her breath when he pulled her close elevated his heart rate; until her arms flew around his neck and he could smell the faint remnants of her floral shampoo when her head fell into the hollow of his shoulder.
She was nothing but trusting softness in his arms, her fragrant hair tickling his cheek, and he was overcome by the memory of the last time she was in his arms as Usagi, when her affection was given freely: his hands cradling her face; the tips of his fingers sliding into those silky, sweet-smelling strands; her lips soft, warm, and pliant beneath his.
The loss and desire tore through him.
When he landed in the alley beside the building but made no move to let her go, Usagi's big, sad eyes lifted to his.
"Are you going to keep avoiding me?" she murmured, her fingers teasing the inky black strands at the nape of his neck.
"I'm not avoiding you," he protested, fighting to ignore the pleasurable tingles triggered by her touch.
Two weeks ago, he would have found that glare endearing, but now it incited only guilt and remorse. She caught his lie so easily. "Yes, you are. Mamo-chan, I may not have magical emotion-reading powers, but I can read you."
Dragging to his cheek, her hand applied gentle pressure until Mamoru finally turned his face towards hers. "I don't see you outside of the battles anymore, and we haven't really spoken since…" A white tooth bit at her lower lip when she trailed off.
Eyes closing with a resigned sigh, Mamoru allowed himself to lean into her hand lingering against his cheek. It was so warm, and he missed her so much.
"You're right, I'm sorry," he finally said after reopening his eyes. She was staring up at him, her eyes once again glassy and sad. "Listen, I was truthful when I said I understood you choosing your duty over us, Usa, but I need time, OK?"
"OK," she whispered. Her hands, the one in his hair and the other against his cheek, lingered along with her stare.
"You know..." she started as her fingers traced a path down his cheek and neck to the metal medallion resting beneath his bow tie. "I had a crush on Tuxedo Kamen long before I knew he was you... had a huge crush on both of you, really, so this, with you... as..." Her eyes returned to his, sad and wanting, "It's kinda a fantasy of mine."
Her admission threw open the floodgates to the feelings she had barricaded deep inside - exhilaration, the low burn of her desire, and her affection for him. He almost dropped her, the force was so strong.
Groaning, he fell back against the wall. "Usa…"
"Mamo-chan." Her blue eyes were so wide, her tantalizing pink lips lifted and slightly parted. Her hand was back against his cheek, caressing with a feather-light touch.
He couldn't help it. It was an automatic movement, an instinct, which made his head lower and eyes slip closed, further encouraged by the gentle tug of her hands. But just before he could kiss her and probably restart his heartbreak all over again, the shrill beeps of her communicator pierced his eardrum, ruining the moment.
One of these days, he was going to rip that communicator off her wrist and throw it in the lake.
"I should get that," she said sheepishly.
He finally set her down, his hands only pulling away when he was certain her feet were firmly planted.
"Do you..." Mamoru hesitated, questioning if it would be a good idea to ask but went ahead anyway. "Do you want me to walk you home?"
"No, I'm OK," she said, her eyes glued to her feet. His relief was only matched by his disappointment. "Luna and the girls will probably want to meet up to talk about the fight."
Mamoru nodded.
It probably was for the best.
Despite what he told Usagi, Mamoru walked into Crown the very next day and settled onto his favorite stool. Motoki had smiled his knowing Motoki-smile when Mamoru let him know he'd be joining him that afternoon.
Usagi even stopped by the counter, keeping her distance but gracing him with a warm smile and an even warmer, "Welcome back, Mamo-chan," whispered just loud enough for only him to hear. Her words and expression settled deep within his chest, once again causing an exquisite ache.
It still hurt to sit alone at the counter and secretly pine for the girl laughing and carrying on with her friends in their shared booth by the window, their occasional quiet conversations merely a facade for the underlying heartbreak; their unspoken longing and regret for what could not be.
But he understood now that his distance had hurt her more than it helped, and he could not bring himself to cause her more pain. Plus, he hadn't quite been wrong – remaining in her orbit was better than being ejected from it, if only just barely. Her presence, though painful, still brought some light into his life, and a small part of him liked the reminder that he once belonged to someone; that he was someone's something, even if just for a little while.
o0o0o0o
o0o0o
"How can you possibly eat right now?" he mumbled, his stomach lurching from the thought.
Upon impact with Sailor Moon's tiara, the youma exploded into a vile mess of sticky, foul-smelling goo. Her tiara returned covered with it, staining the tips of her gloved fingers a revolting greenish-brown color.
When Luna dismissed the girls home after the debrief, Usagi awkwardly dawdled, shifting on her feet and wringing her hands, but the moment Mamoru caught her eye, she froze, then took off in the opposite direction of her house.
Curious, he followed, matching her step for step across the city until she plopped down on one of Tokyo Tower's wide steel beams. Together, the two watched the setting sun paint the sky a warm array of deep oranges and reds.
Out of nowhere, Usagi produced a cellophane bag full of frosted cookies and was happily munching away, her booted feet swinging to her hum of a trendy pop song Mamoru recognized but couldn't name. Her hands and forehead were bare, the youma-goo covered gloves and tiara carelessly tossed onto the beam somewhere beside her.
To his surprise, Usagi offered him some of her cookies, stretching out the hand holding the bag with a "mmmm?" around her mouthful of crumbs.
But the mere sight of the sugary confections threatened the expulsion of his stomach's contents, so he turned her down with a waved hand and a shake of his head. With the memory of that smell still lodged deep within his nostrils, food was very the last thing on his mind.
"Where did you even keep that, anyway?" he managed before covering a heave.
Usagi shrugged as she swallowed. "Mako-chan made them for our meeting today, but it was interrupted by the youma. I grabbed a bag as we left. What am I supposed to do with Mako-chan's cookies? Not eat them? Come on, Mamo-chan."
Another cookie was popped into her mouth with an appreciative sigh.
His stomach did a nauseating back flip. "But do you have to eat them now?"
Usagi shrugged again. "I'm hungry."
o0o0o0o
o0o0o
After that day, if Usagi was free after the post-battle debrief wrapped, she would linger and catch his eye before leading Mamoru somewhere high and semi-private - a skyscraper, billboard, bridge - somewhere only Sailor Moon and Tuxedo Kamen could access, never Usagi and Mamoru.
Maybe Usagi justified these hangouts to herself as an unofficial extension of the debrief. After all, the two did discuss current and past battles while he healed their wounds. But they also talked about everything else, their day-to-day goings on, upcoming plans, local and school gossip.
It was freeing, really, that ability to talk so openly, to not have to pretend they were mere casual acquaintances who barely knew the other's name. Mamoru supposed they weren't exactly doing this break up thing correctly, but it didn't really count as a betrayal if they weren't actually a couple, right?
"I've always wanted to ask, Usa," Mamoru said, his eyes directed to the healing gash on his arm. The youma had thrown actual sidewalk at them, peeling it out of the ground as if it weren't a section of sidewalk but merely a sticker on a sheet. "Why a stewardess?"
"Huh?" Her nose wrinkled and brow furrowed in confusion. "What are you talking about?"
"The Demon Bus, when you found Mars." When you disappeared into a vortex alone while clinging to the back of a bus, and I couldn't follow.
As the recognition dawned, her eyes brightened and her face smoothed out into a wide smile. "Oh, that. Because I had to protect the passengers!" she cheerfully explained as if it made all the sense in the world.
It was his brow's turn to furrow. "But a stewardess? You weren't on an airplane."
"Hey!" Her tone was quite offended, her smile flipping into a tight frown. "I only had, like, a second, to come up with a disguise, and 'stewardess' was the first thing that popped into my head!"
Then she sat up a little straighter, lifted her chin a little higher, and pulled her lips up into a smug grin. "I protected them, didn't I?"
Mamoru's warm smile down to Usagi elicited a faint blush across her cheeks that his fingers ached to caress.
Yes, she certainly did. That fight against Jadeite was the only one in which he could not be by Sailor Moon's side, and he had fretted for her safety from the moment she entered the vortex until she magically reappeared, wrongfully so. He was in constant awe of Sailor Moon's power, especially with the support of the other senshi fighting alongside her.
But one side of his mouth quirked higher of its own volition. "Why didn't you just transform into Sailor Moon?"
Lord, help him, he really had missed that glare: the narrowed eyes and flushed cheeks, lips pressed into an annoyed thin line. Mumbling for him to shut up, Usagi delivered a well-deserved slap to his upper arm, which only amused him further, his head falling back from the force of his full-throated laughter.
But her laughter soon joined his, the sound light and beautiful, and without thinking, Mamoru reached over and curled his fingers around her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.
Not until she squeezed back did he realize what he had done, but he didn't let go, and neither did she, until it was time to leave.
o0o0o0o
o0o0o
The grass was cool against his back.
Lying next to each other on a patch of grass with an unobstructed view of the stars, Tuxedo Kamen and Sailor Moon watched the moon traverse the sky in total silence.
Both were utterly exhausted.
Tonight's youma, large but wiry, was fast; so impossibly fast, its movements could not be tracked with the naked eye.
Mercury's computer was rendered useless. By the time a location was called, the creature had already moved on to its next target. And its speed increased the force of the hits by such a degree, a slight touch was capable of flinging the warriors off their feet and into the nearest wall, window, car, or lamp post.
If one of the senshi was lucky enough to conjure a shield in time, the youma simply moved on, never staying in one place for too long.
The battle quickly devolved into a chaotic free-for-all of hurled fireballs, bolts of lightning, shards of ice, and flying tiaras, transforming the street into a mess of broken glass, blackened concrete and asphalt, twisted metal, and crumbling brick. The air was stifling, nearly suffocating, from the pungent, bitter odor of Jupiter's electricity and the burnt asphalt caused by both Jupiter and Mars.
Mars sported a small cut above her eyebrow, the significant bleeding, as head wounds tend to do, gave the appearance of a more severe wound. But Mercury called out assurances, so Mars just wiped a gloved arm at it, smearing red on white. Jupiter grimaced as she rubbed at her shoulder, and Mercury limped around on a bruised ankle.
Tuxedo Kamen's clothes were more battered than he was due to his conveniently discreet healing ability, without which he would have already excused himself from this fight. But he would heal himself a thousand times over if it meant staying on the same battlefield as Sailor Moon.
Having realized early on that the lunar senshi lacked any ability to call power to her hands or conjure a shield, the youma made her his primary target. Usagi was notoriously fast, but she wasn't that fast, so Mamoru dedicated himself to her safety, bearing the brunt of the attacks meant for her by either throwing himself in front of her or shoving her out of the way.
Each hit, every crash, hurt more than the last, but none were more painful than catching the widening of Usagi's eyes and the clenching of her hands and jaw so she wouldn't reach for him nor call out his name.
Panic seized his heart when she was finally struck, the blow knocking her off her feet and sending her crashing through the brick wall of an empty store, where she disappeared from view. Tuxedo Kamen was at her side immediately, his pulse hammering in his ears as his psychometry mapped her injuries. The rubble and what remained of the store's foundation mostly shielded them from the other senshis' and Luna's gaze, so he took as much time as he dared to heal her with hands not even his impressive willpower could compel to steady.
Sailor Moon's slowness to let him go afterwards, combined with her stressed, weary gaze, almost broke his resolve to not crush her into his embrace and take her as far away as he could manage.
But Sailor Moon's return to the battlefield was short-lived. Though her tiara reached the youma with the dead-on precision honed from months of practice, the now glowing disc was batted away as if it were nothing but a blunt, harmless toy. It flew straight into Sailor Jupiter, who barely managed to throw up a shield in time. The stunned silence following the tiara's clattering to the ground was broken by Luna's screeched demand for Usagi to leave the battlefield at once.
When her loud, arduous protests were not entertained by the clearly exasperated cat, Sailor Moon's stricken expression flew to Mamoru for validation, but the subtle shake of his head immediately dropped her gaze to ground.
He'd hurt her, he knew - it was impossible to miss her quivering lip and the slow lift and fall of her shoulders with each breath - but away from this danger was exactly where he wanted her.
With Sailor Moon off the field and no longer the youma's primary target, the other senshi and Tuxedo Kamen regrouped, but it would still be another 20 minutes before the first strike landed, nearly a full hour after the battle had begun. Mars, after yet another failed attempt to slow the youma down with an enchanted ofuda, screamed out her frustrated rage. The resulting burst of power, which pulsed off her smoldering form as an impressive ring of fire, set aflame the unsuspecting creature's fur (hair? The sulfurous odor wreaking havoc on their senses made it impossible to tell).
The resulting injury was mild, all things considered, but it was enough.
A still enraged Sailor Mars called forth a barrage of fire balls, most of which landed, and a smirking Sailor Jupiter cracked her knuckles as she stepped up for a turn. Her fist, crackling with green electricity, connected with the youma's face and knocked it to the ground, where it flailed and convulsed, its cries echoing off the surrounding buildings.
Only after Mercury froze it in place did Sailor Moon return to the battlefield, her eyes shining and jaw clenched as she whisper-called to the wand's power.
The senshi jumped and cheered their relief that the battle was finally over, their dirty, exhausted faces bright with their joy. Sailor Moon celebrated with them, but her smile was tight.
After being dismissed, Mamoru followed Usagi to the empty park, finding her sprawled in the grass, her eyes skyward. Her lack of reaction to his emergence from the shadows to settle down beside her, told Mamoru his presence was expected.
And here they lie, nearly 30 minutes later.
He really should go home. Both had school in the morning, and he had an important test for which he should try to study more. But Usagi's quiet presence beside him removed all desire to move.
Plus, the grass was awfully cool against his back.
"Hey, Mamo-chan?"
"Yes?"
"Why did you dance with me back then?" Her fingers threaded together and fidgeted against the brooch on her chest. "At Princess D's Embassy Ball? You didn't know it was me, right? So, who'd you think I was?"
Sighing at the fleeting jealousy slicing its way through her, a sad, soft smile pulled up his mouth as Mamoru turned onto his side to fully face her, stemming an elbow in the grass to prop up his head. He kept his focus on the hand busying itself with the strands of her blonde hair splayed all around them. "Even though you weren't wearing the fuku, I knew you were Sailor Moon."
She finally looked at him. "How?" she whispered.
"The same way I always know how to find Sailor Moon. That draw. And my psychometry. You just... felt the same as her." When he felt the jealousy course through her again, he met her gaze just in time to watch it flash in her eyes. "I'm sorry, Usa," he murmured, "I don't know why I couldn't tell she was you."
Her breathing hitching with embarrassment, Usagi's face jerked back towards the moon. "I did ask Luna about it recently," she whispered to her glowing namesake. "She said there is a powerful glamour magic protecting us so we aren't recognized by anyone. But I wondered if your... you know... could see past it. I know you said before you didn't know, but..." Usagi sighed and trailed off.
"Usa." The fingers of Mamoru's free hand stroked the opposite side of her face, encouraging her to face him again. When she did finally turn her head, his breath caught in his throat.
Her big blue eyes shimmered with her unshed tears, a faint blush spread beneath the brush of his fingers on her cheek, and her hair gave off the faintest of white glows. Mamoru always found her beautiful but here, illuminated as she was by the silver moonlight, she was breathtaking.
Those shimmering eyes searched his as he stared, as he wrestled with the overwhelming desire to slide his fingers into her hair and kiss her until each and every single one of her doubts was gone.
How could he make her understand…
"Do you remember falling asleep on one of the benches on the terrace that night, after the fight was over?" he murmured against the crushing ache in his chest.
"Yea," she said through a small, sheepish smile. "Luna lectured me when we got home for drinking the alcohol, but I didn't know it was when I drank it! I was just thirsty!"
Her outburst had him smiling softly. "But did she tell you she chased me away while you were out there?"
"She did..." Usagi hesitated, her eyes sliding from his in embarrassment. "That was partly why she lectured me. She said I left myself vulnerable in front of Tuxedo Kamen, that if he had done something, I wouldn't have been able to defend myself."
His hand jerked away from her face as his entire body recoiled away from both Usagi and the accusation.
It hurt, the pain burrowing deep into his very core, to be so distrusted that Luna deemed him capable of committing such a terrible act, the very thing he had stood there to prevent.
Pushing himself into a sitting position, one leg outstretched, the other folded beneath him, Mamoru ran an agitated hand through his hair, pausing to tug on the strands, before dropping into his lap with a sigh.
All of this really was his fault.
Why did he imply to Luna all those weeks ago that he might actually be their enemy since he was also after the Maboroshi no Ginzuishou?
Damn it.
Usagi was sitting up by the time his eyes found her again, the downward curl of her mouth and the shine of her eyes breaking his heart and deepening his guilt. "Mamo-chan, I'm so sorr-"
"No, I'm sorry, Usa," he interrupted, running his hand through his hair again. "I wish I had learned that you were Sailor Moon sooner. Maybe I would have done things differently and the others would actually trust me now. Maybe, you and I… maybe we could have..." But he cut himself off with a shake of his head and a sigh before getting up.
The weight of her gaze was nearly suffocating as he stood, but when he turned to lower a hand to assist her up, her eyes had fallen to the grass, where they stayed even once she was back on her feet.
"Usa, the reason I was standing there when Luna found me... I was protecting Sailor Moon." The way she stiffened had him squeezing her hand tight. "I happened to be in the ballroom when Sailor Moon drank the alcohol, and when she stumbled out onto the terrace and fell asleep, I thought..." He took a deep, slow breath. "I remember thinking it was such an Usagi thing to do, to confuse a cocktail for juice simply because it was sweet."
A forlorn smile pulled up his mouth when Usagi's face shot up to his and new tears shimmered and swirled within her widened eyes.
"It was then I deduced the likely reason I was so drawn to Sailor Moon. She just reminded me so much of…" Usagi jumped when his hands were suddenly at her face, but the tender way he cupped her cheeks had her melting into his touch and covering his hands with hers.
"Mamo-chan?" she whispered, her wide eyes flitting between his when he didn't continue.
"Usa." The slow way Mamoru lowered his head had Usagi's eyes slipping closed and lips lifting in anticipation of his kiss, but when the breath of his whisper brushed against her ear, her eyes flew back open with a loud gasp. "You were all I ever thought about."
At his words, her tears finally fell, silent and glittering in the moon's soft glow.
Mamoru enveloped her trembling form in his arms without another word. Usagi clung to him, her quiet cries quickly devolving into gasping, wracking sobs.
In his arms, she cried out her embarrassment and frustration from tonight's battle and her painful regret for everything else.
Mamoru's gaze returned to the moon floating high in the sky.
o0o0o0o
o0o0o
"Mamo-chan?"
"Hmmm?" He didn't look up from his task: healing the deep gash cut into the inner aspect of Usagi's upper thigh sustained when she tripped right in front of the youma.
Usagi, for her part, just sat with a casual lean back onto her hands as if it were no big deal that he was touching her leg near such a sensitive area. He loved being the one to heal Usagi, but damn. If he wasn't a first-person witness to her natural clumsiness, Mamoru would be certain Usagi was doing this to him on purpose.
"Do you think they hate me?"
Her tone and words broke through his intense concentration, and he looked up from her wound with wide eyes. "What? Who?"
"The girls," she clarified with a frown.
"No, of course they don't," he responded with a shake of his head.
Despite the confidence of his response (and he was very confident), the uncertainty in her eyes, and the doubt pressing against his hands, didn't fade. "But Mars gets so mad sometimes." Usagi's blue eyes were far away, her fingers raking through the strands of one pigtail with an absentminded drag of her hand. "And Luna does too, though never when you're around. She saves it for later."
"Where's this coming from?" he asked softly. When she didn't answer, he brushed a finger against her cheek. "Usa?"
Glassy eyes shifted to his for just a moment before jerking back to some far-off point in the distance.
"I just… I struggle so much, and Luna's never had to pull the others from a fight."
Ah.
"They're worried about you, Usa. Mars cares about you, but I think she struggles to properly express her feelings." The corner of his mouth picked up fondly. "Sound familiar?" he teased.
She side-eyed him in mock suspicion. "Did you get all of that from your emotion-reading powers?"
Mamoru chuckled. "Maybe I did."
Her giggle was light, but it didn't quite match her eyes, and she sombered quickly.
"Why is it so much easier for them?" she murmured. "Ami-chan didn't need to be told how to transform or use her attacks; neither did Rei-chan or Mako-chan. And they don't need y-" Her hand covered her gasp as her wide eyes flew back to his.
You.
They don't need you.
He knew what she was going to say without any assistance, but his demons delighted in filling in the rest anyway.
With a sigh, Mamoru returned his focus to the almost healed gash in her leg. At least he was good for something. "I'm not really sure," he said at last, "but your powers are different from theirs, Usa. You purify youma and heal the victims. It's almost as if-" he swallowed, buying time to carefully choose his words "-as if you weren't meant to be fighting on the front lines… at least, not in the same way."
One didn't need an ability to read emotions to know his words struck a chord. The fall of her face and clenched shut eyes were telling enough. "But… But I want to help," she whispered, her voice trembling, "I want to do more…"
"You do." When her wet, disbelieving eyes lifted to his, Mamoru palmed her cheek, his thumb offering a slow caress. "Usa, you do help. We couldn't do this without you. Please understand, we lo-" His hand ripped away to press against his mouth as he cleared his throat in an attempt to cover the near-reveal of the feelings dwelling deep within his heart. "The girls love you, they do, but they're also concerned, and they want you safe. I promise they don't hate you." He looked away as his voice lowered to a whisper. "They could never hate you."
"Mamo-chan…" Usagi whispered. Her fingers reached for him but hesitated, then curled into a fist before falling into her lap with a sigh laden with sorrow.
"Well," she said instead, "how come they don't get as many injuries as I do?"
Mamoru unwisely snorted at her question, earning an adorable glare from Usagi. But it was a defense mechanism of sorts, to fall into familiar patterns to protect himself against his heartbreak and his demons. "That's just because you're clumsy, Usa."
The immediate offended shriek of his name, and the playful swat of his arm, brought Mamoru all the way back to the very beginning, and he smiled despite himself.
Because it was his name she shrieked.
The one only she had for him.
It was all he still had of their short time together, and he treasured it.
"OK, you're all set," Mamoru said, standing from his crouched position beside her.
"Thanks, Mamo-chan."
His heart fluttered when she beamed up her smile to him, as it always did.
As he helped her up, Usagi still managed to trip and stumble into his chest (because of course she did), and his hands were immediately on her shoulders to steady her.
"See?" he chuckled. But before her adorable glare could finish fully forming on her face, it fell away with her soft gasp and shiver when Mamoru's low voice whispered in her ear. "Good thing you've got me to catch you."
"Mamo-chan," she breathed, a blush spilling across her face.
The slide of his gloved fingers across the blue collar of her fuku and up her neck was slow, his watchful eyes catching the minute flutter of her lashes and the delicate movement of her throat as she swallowed. Resting against her neck, his fingers read her hammering pulse as his thumb offered a soft caress against her cheek.
"Yes?" he murmured.
"I... um..." But she trailed off, her eyes flitting down and to the left. The fingers now curled into his tuxedo jacket were shaking when Usagi pressed her forehead against his chest.
"Thank you again," she mumbled. "My leg feels much better."
Mamoru straightened his back and closed his eyes in resignation. He tried to swallow down his disappointment, but it stuck in his throat, threatening to choke him.
Usagi still cared for him. Not only could he feel it on her skin, it shined through those expressive blue eyes, but she never allowed either one to cross back over the line. They certainly flirted with it many, many times, but flirting was as far as it went; was as far as she allowed it to go.
His hand fell back to her shoulder.
"You're welcome."
o0o0o0o
o0o0o
Mamoru watched the girl storm off through an impassive expression, her explosive aura lashing out at everyone she passed.
This was his second confession this week.
Confessions were always unpleasant, but now, when the only girl he wanted wouldn't have him because her duty told her he was forbidden, they were unbearable. This time he had been, admittedly, harsher than intended in his rejection, both in tone and words, unfairly taking out his frustrations on this brave girl whose only offense was admitting she liked him.
But was it really too much to ask for these girls to realize he was going through some things, so this just wasn't the best time?
Plus, because fate was cruel, Usagi was present for both, watching the interactions through mournful eyes, her mouth pulled down into a half frown from her losing battle to keep her expression neutral.
She was alone the first time. "You're not going to go out with her?" she asked afterwards, desperately trying to sound casual and indifferent to whatever his response may be. But Mamoru caught the shake in her voice, the shine of her too-bright eyes, and the way her fingers clawed into her skirt.
"Of course I'm not. Don't be ridiculous."
She flinched away from his tone, but his embarrassment, brought on by her witnessing yet another confession, overrode most of the guilt he should be feeling for speaking to her so gruffly. His frustration helped. Usagi broke up with him. If he wanted to accept the confession of another girl, he was free to do so, and there wasn't a single thing she could do nor say about it.
Still.
"Usa."
Her steps halted immediately, but her turn to face him was agonizingly slow.
"I'm not."
Tears finally slipped down her face when she closed her eyes in relief, and she nodded.
But this time, he had a larger audience, comprised of not just Usagi, but the girls and Luna too. What they were doing on this exact part of the street at this exact time, a time they were usually crammed together into a booth at Crown or holed up at the shrine, was a mystery, but all five were present to watch this poor girl pour out her heart to Mamoru only to be soundly rejected.
Rei shook her head in disinterest, Makoto clucked her disapproval at the rude way he broke the girl's heart, while Ami slowly hid her face behind her open book.
Usagi didn't utter a single sound, but the sadness and regret brimming in those big, beautiful blue eyes stayed with Mamoru for hours.
o0o0o0o
o0o0o
Sensing Usagi's transformation, Mamoru tossed his pen onto his open notebook and beelined for his balcony door, but before he could transform and step outside, Sailor Moon landed onto the concrete surface with a graceful thud.
"Usa?" he managed through his shock. "What's wrong? What are you doing here?"
"Mamo-chan," she breathed as Sailor Moon shimmered away into Usagi. "Can I ask you something? Please? It's really important."
Something akin to panic clutched at his chest, but he did not, for the life of him, know why. "Yes…" he said after a moment.
"Why are you looking for the Maboroshi no Ginzuishou?"
A multitude of possibilities had crossed his mind in the impossibly short time it took Usagi to speak again, but this question had not been among them. His surprise must have been obvious because Usagi's eyes blew up wide before she hurriedly added, "I-I know I said before you didn't have to tell me, but now... now I need to know."
"Why now...?" he managed, his heart thumping as he ran an uneasy hand through his hair. He wasn't trying to be difficult, but the answer was still a deeply personal and closely guarded secret, one he just wasn't sure he was ready to share. "Is this because of the other senshi? Have they said something?"
"No!" Strands of long, blonde hair whipped about her as she jerked her head side to side. "I need to know... for me."
"Usa-"
"Please!" she begged, her fingers digging into his white uniform shirt. "Please, Mamo-chan, will you tell me? Whatever it is, I promise I won't tell Luna or the girls."
"Usa…" Mamoru scratched the back of his head with a sigh. Maybe he could make something up, something that sounded a little more believable and was significantly less personal.
But then he glanced back down at Usagi, taking in her wide, imploring eyes and earnest expression, and Mamoru realized only the truth would do. After everything they've been through together because of him, he owed her that much.
"My memories," he said finally.
Blinking, Usagi tilted her head in confusion. "Memories?"
Finally, Mamoru told her of the car accident on his sixth birthday which killed both of his parents and left him with permanent amnesia; how he didn't recognize his own name afterwards, let alone remember the parents he had just lost yet was expected to grieve; about being shipped off to an orphanage as soon as he was deemed recovered enough to go, where he lived for years, never being adopted, until he was allowed to move out on his own.
Usagi listened intently, her fingers pressed against her mouth as a steady stream of tears coursed down her cheeks.
"And, nearly every night," he finished, "I have the same dream of a faceless woman begging me to find the Maboroshi no Ginzuishou. I don't know how, but it is the key to recovering my lost memories."
"Why didn't you tell me?" Usagi whispered.
"Because it's personal, Usa," he murmured, brushing back strands of soft hair from her face, his fingertips leaving damp trails across her cheek. "Because it was too soon, then we…" Mamoru shook his head. "Well, I don't like to talk about it."
Before he was old enough to decide for himself who would be told about his past (if it had been up to him growing up, the tale of his past wouldn't have been shared with anyone), learning this information became a production of disingenuous condolences and awkward pity. Sometimes the sadness expressed was genuine, but he ultimately hadn't meant anything to any of these people. He was just another kid in a sea of faceless orphans living in an orphanage because there was no one else to care for them; because they had no one else who loved them.
Those people expressed their sympathies because that's what one did after hearing about a tragic experience, and Mamoru had to stand there and accept it with grace because it was expected of him. But receiving half-hearted pity from people who didn't care about him as an individual, knowing he would either be forgotten when they left or would become a sad story to tell their friends, was more painful than the loss he couldn't remember.
He couldn't stand their pity, nor the way those people looked at him afterwards. He was more than just the kid who lost his parents, more than his lack of memories. Yet, those were the only things those people saw.
"Mamo-chan, I'm so sorry. I knew you were lonely, but I had no idea you were so alone." Her face pressed against his chest. "I wish you had told me."
"It isn't your responsibility to alleviate my loneliness," he said easily, as if that wasn't what he wanted most in this entire world.
Her head shot back up, fresh tears pooling in her eyes. "But if I had known-"
"Don't." The flare of anger was so sudden and so strong, his hands were shaking with it when he gripped her shoulders to push her away. "Don't you dare say you wouldn't have broken up with me, Usa," Mamoru snapped, "I won't be bound to you out of pity."
"What?!" Her face was positively stricken, puffy red eyes wide with alarm, her cheeks streaked with tears. "No! Mamo-chan, that's not what I meant!" She reached for him, but he crossed his arms across his chest and stepped back. He just couldn't let it go, even as he felt her hurt and watched it flash through her eyes.
It wasn't just the pity. The mere suggestion that all the hurt, sorrow, and loneliness he'd been suffering the last few weeks could have been avoided was enough to fuel the rapidly growing-out-of-control fire that was his rage.
"What?!" he demanded, "What did you mean?"
Whimpering from his harsh tone, Usagi grabbed at her skirt for support and kept going. "I just…" She swallowed, thick and slow. "I can't do this anymore. I'm too selfish."
The effect his confusion had on tempering his anger was minimal, so Mamoru only raised a sharp eyebrow in response.
"I can't keep watching you get hurt in battle, then hang out with you afterwards and pretend it doesn't mean anything. Because it does, Mamo-chan. It means everything." Her wet blue eyes held his. "But it can't. We know it can't."
At her words, the raging inferno that was his rage fizzled and burned out, leaving behind only smoldering embers struggling to stay alight. Though his expression remained unchanged, Mamoru was terrified.
He'd already cut himself out of her life once, and he'd never been more lonely, more miserable.
Was she about to ask him to do it again?
"But I also can't watch any more of these girls," Usagi continued, "these older, prettier, and probably smarter girls, confess to you." Rushing over his intake of air, she added, "And I know, it's not fair of me to say so when I was the one to end our relationship. So I needed to know why you needed the Ginzuishou-"
"Why? If this, us -" He really despised the way his voice trembled "- if we can't be anything, then why does it matt-?"
"It matters because I love you!"
Mamoru's mouth fell open at her admission, his eyes blown wide open.
But Usagi didn't see. Her eyes were clenched shut over the rush of tears coursing down her face, her hands balled into tight, shaking fists. "And every day that I see you at Crown, or during a fight, or the time we spend together afterwards, or when I watch these girls confess to you, I have to pretend that I don't; pretend it doesn't hurt. But I do, and it does. And I can't…" Usagi shook her head before taking a deep, shuddering breath. "So, I needed to know why you were after the Ginzuishou."
Despite everything she just said, Mamoru didn't dare allow himself to hope. His heart was simply too fragile.
"Why?" he whispered.
Usagi's eyes finally reopened. Though they were still overflowing with her tears, she was smiling, a bright smile filled with warmth and love; a smile that took away his breath and set his heart aflutter.
This smile was his.
Her love bloomed within his chest like a resplendent flower - beautiful and soft, yet bold; delicate, yet certain.
He'd never been loved before...
So exquisite and precious was this emotion flowing through him, all he could do was stare, the tension in his arms loosening until they fell numbly to his sides.
"You were mine, and I let you go without fully understanding why." Taking advantage of his open posture, Usagi moved back into his personal space and grasped his shirt with both hands. "Mamo-chan, your need for the Maboroshi no Ginzuishou is good and pure. You don't want to destroy the world or take it over; you just want your memories back. And I want to do anything I can to help you get them."
Her forehead fell against his chest, her voice just above a whisper. "I'm selfish because I need to know that when these girls confess to you or flirt with you, that none of it matters, that you'll turn them away every time, because you're mine."
"Usako."
He hadn't seen that blush in weeks, not since they broke up and he couldn't bring himself to use this nickname because she hadn't been his then, not really. His fingers were back at her cheek, soft and tender, and his heart soared when she leaned into his touch with a quiet sigh and a widening smile.
"I've been yours ever since you hit me in the face with your damn test."
"Mamo-chan..."
She was pushing up onto the tips of her toes just as he leaned down to her, and their lips crashed together somewhere in the middle.
Their first kiss in weeks was urgent and desperate, their lips bruising and tongues rough, as if to slow down would give the other the chance to change their mind; to come to their senses and realize this was wrong.
When Usagi lost her balance and fell against him after failing to tug him down even lower, Mamoru slid his hands to the backs of her thighs and lifted her until their mouths were at an equal height. Her hands were in his hair immediately, her nails scraping against his scalp as she kneaded her fingers through the dark strands. The new position perfectly aligned her hips with his, eliciting a gasp from her and a low moan from Mamoru when she wrapped her legs around his waist to hold on and draw him even closer.
Mamoru stumbled to the couch and deposited them both onto the plush cushions, her underneath and arching against him.
"Usako," he sighed against her throat, trailing warm, open mouth kisses down to the junction of her shoulder. "Say it again."
Her warm hands slid from his hair to lift his face off her neck, and her blue eyes, shining with love but dark with want, held his captive. "Mamo-chan," she breathed, one hand brushing tenderly against his cheek. "I love you."
A shudder rippled through him, and his hands framed her face when he kissed her again, slower, deeper, his lips and tongue expressing his feelings in a way his words could not.
And then he began to drown.
In her taste, her whimpered moans, the possessive clutch of her hands, her white hot desire. But Usagi rocking her hips into his again gave him the moment of clarity he needed to realize they were dangerously close to the edge of a precipice from which he was not yet ready to fall.
Breaking off their kiss, Mamoru dropped his forehead to hers, closing his eyes as he fought to catch his breath and regain his control, made all the more difficult with the object of all his desires currently lying soft, warm, and very wanting beneath him. He was absolutely certain her love would consume him if only he would let it.
Someday, he hoped he would.
o0o0o0o
o0o0o
"What happens now?" Usagi whispered against his chest.
Their positions were reversed, Usagi lying on top of and alongside him, head to his chest, one hand held loosely in his. Mamoru's free arm was wrapped around her back, the fingers absentmindedly playing with the soft strands of her hair.
"That depends," he answered after a moment. "Do we tell the girls?" The corner of his lip quirked up. "And your cat?"
She didn't answer right away, but Mamoru was so content to be holding her again, he didn't press.
"I want to tell them..." she finally said, her voice hesitant.
"But?" he prompted when she trailed off.
"If Luna forbids it and the girls agree, then we won't-" The break in her voice cracked a tiny fissure in his heart. "Mamo-chan," she whispered, "we'll be right back where we started, except I won't be able to sneak away to see you anymore."
Mamoru frowned. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't considered that possibility, but what of the alternative? As private as he was, surely he could endure the secrecy if it meant staying together, but Usagi…
Do they have to know?
"Usako." He caressed her cheek, and her shimmering blue eyes turned up to his. "Keeping our relationship a secret means lying to your best friends, and you'll still have to hide your feelings around other people. Do you want to do that? Do you think you can?"
Her eyes slipped closed with a sigh.
"I don't want to go back to how things were either," he murmured, "but it wasn't fair of me to ask this of you before, and it isn't now. You will bear the heavier burden if we decide to keep our relationship a secret."
It was a struggle to completely silence the voice inside screaming at him to shut up. Though they'd only just reconciled, already the weight of their responsibilities threatened to pull them apart and it didn't need any help from him.
But this was a decision Usagi needed to make on her own. He couldn't bear to cause her any further regrets.
"Do you ever feel too young for all this?" Her quiet voice broke the gloomy silence.
A ghost of a smile pulled up on his face. "Only every second of every day."
Her giggle was light. "Me too."
He felt the exact moment she made her decision, felt the determination pull together from every place they shared a touch to form a ball of warmth settling into his chest.
As she rose to face him, that determination set in the lines of her face, Mamoru held his breath.
"Mamo-chan," she said, bright blue eyes shifting between his, "I… I can't explain it, but something deep inside is begging me to keep us a secret, at least for now. I know it won't be easy, but I don't want to spend another second regretting what we could have been if my duty didn't break us up." Gentle fingers caressed his face. "Is that OK?"
Keeping his gaze locked with hers, Mamoru covered her hand with his own and nodded, but whatever he intended to say was forgotten when she kissed him, her mouth soft and sweet. One arm wrapped around her back to pull her closer and the fingers of the other settled into the silky softness of her hair.
No, it won't be easy, but whatever challenges come their way, at least they'll face them together.