Sunday: Part 1

"Usako." I rapped on the bathroom door anxiously. "Please let me in."

She had been locked in my bathroom for thirty minutes, leaving me completely helpless to do anything for her from the other side of the door. I raked my fingers through my hair and leaned my back to the door, resting my head against it with a gentle thud.

The gut-twisting sounds coming from inside reached an intermission and a faint click indicated that Usagi was finally permitting me to enter.

Her hair pooled around her on the floor, moist and matted. Clad in only a tank top and her panties, my sweats abandoned on the floor beside her, I could see beads of sweat clinging to practically every inch of her sallow looking skin. She looked so small, so helpless, and I instinctively reached a hand out to her.

"Usagi? Are you ok?"

Tentatively, I knelt beside the poor girl with my hand resting on the small of her back. I wasn't sure yet how my presence would be received.

A groan escaped her and she shook her head.

"Just go away. I'm sick," she croaked.

I lingered for a moment, contemplating whether or not to obey, when another wave of sickness overcame Usagi and she heaved into the toilet once again.

For the second time tonight, or rather early morning, my body responded before my mind had time to process. I sprang into action, holding her long tresses behind her shaking frame and waited patiently for the moment to pass.

"You don't have to-" she began weakly, wiping her mouth with a piece of toilet paper.

"Shhh, it's okay, Usako, I don't mind." I used my free hand to smooth back the bangs that were now plastered to her forehead.

"Mmm..." The sound was so small I wasn't entirely sure that I had actually heard it, but I took it as a sign that it was okay for me to be here, that she wanted me to be here. I continued to stroke her hair for a moment before turning my attention to her shoulders. So gently that I was barely touching her, I traced patterns across her milky white skin with my fingertips, eliciting a sigh from the sick girl. I let her hair down to drape over her shoulder and tucked it behind her ear. With the back of my hand, I caressed her flushed check. My body seemed to know exactly how to comfort her. Like muscle memory.

"This was definitely not how I saw tonight going." She folded her arms across the toilet seat and rested her head against them.

I chuckled. Even in this arguable off-putting condition, she was absolutely adorable.

"I have a feeling we will have another opportunity," I reassured her.

A small smile spread across her pale lips and she peeked up at me with one eye.

"You sure you wanna see me again after seeing me like this?"

"Usako." Her name felt like a prayer on my lips. I cupped her face in both hands and gently pulled her up to look at me. Color returned to her cheeks in response ro my fervent tone. "Believe me when I say, I can't imagine ever not wanting to see you."

So much had changed in just the past few hours. Tsukino Usagi, previously the annoying, dumpling-headed girl I found great enjoyment in teasing, had become a woman inexplicably tangled up in my life. We had only shared one romantic encounter-so far-and yet I couldn't imagine a time where she wasn't as close to me as I felt to her now. It was as if we had always been together and we were now settling back into our comfortable routine, like she had been away and had finally returned home to me.

Still, something nagged at the back of my mind: My dreams. My dream girl. How did she tie in with all of this? Could I justify a search for a woman who may or may not even exist while I had a real, living and breathing woman before me now, my heart already held captive by the silken strands I now held in my fingers?

Usagi leaned into my embrace and climbed into my lap. I simply held her, the rest of the world–my worries, my fears, my questions–dissolving around us until only she and I remained.

"How are you feeling now?" I asked, lightly running my fingers up and down her arms.

She stretched her toes, taking mental stock of her body.

"Cold, I think."

One corner of my cheek tugged upwards at her little voice.

"I'm not surprised. You're half naked."

She stiffened in my arms and drew her legs up into herself in a pathetic attempt to protect her modesty.

"I felt really hot before..." she murmured.

Cradling her securely to my chest, I stood up swiftly and returned to the bedroom. This girl weighs nothing! You'd never know it by the way she eats. I laid her on the bed and brought the covers up over her shivering body. She snuggled under them appreciatively, seeking more warmth. Using the back of my hand, I tested her forehead for a fever and almost jumped as it made contact; she was on fire.

"Usako, you're burning up. I'm going to get that medicine Ami brought," I said decidedly.

Her response came in the form of clattering teeth.

Not wanting to waste any time, I flew to the kitchen and retrieved the white paper bag Ami had delivered earlier along with a bucket and several dish towels. On my way back to the bedroom, I flung the throw blanket from the sofa over my shoulder as a last minute addition and hustled back to Usagi's side.

I set the bucket on the floor next to the bed and spread the blanket over Usagi, still shivering beneath the covers.

"Th-ank-k-s," she stammered.

The paper bag crinkled and rustled as I dumped its contents into my hand. A single, orange cylinder filled with tiny, white pills sat in my palm. I opened it and took one out to examine it. It seemed innocuous enough. What did the directions say? I turned the bottle over to read the label. The name of the medication was unfamiliar to me.

"Take one tablet by mouth every 4-6 hours as symptoms persist."

Grabbing the glass of water that lived on my bedside table, I offered the medicine to Usagi. She took it gratefully and swallowed as small a sip of water as she could manage.

"Hopefully you'll be feeling a lot better in a few minutes." I brushed her bangs out of her eyes and admired them, twin lakes of clear blue set against the snow of her skin. They filled me with serenity.

Serenity. That was her name.

"Mamo-chan?" Her shivering had calmed, but her voice was still weak. She swallowed. "Will you stay?"

Serenity would have to wait.

In an instant, I was on the bed beside her, cradling her to my chest. Her arm crept out from the covers and found a new resting place across my ribs, my heart beating wildly beneath them. "Of course."


For a few minutes, we laid like that, arms around each other, as Usagi's body slowly relaxed. Eventually her arm slid limply off my torso, and I peered down to see if she had fallen asleep. Instead, I was shocked to find her eyes were wide open and fixed on my face. Aside from a glassy appearance and a subtle, foggy expression, she appeared to be completely alert. Was this a new symptom? Or a side effect from the drug? Or something horribly wrong with my face?

"Usako?"

"Mamo-chan," her speech was slightly slurred, "you are the most beautiful man I've ever seeeeeeen."

Warmth spread across my cheeks at her proclamation. Before I could formulate any kind of response, she continued.

"But you're not supposed to know that."

One glassy eye began slipping in an opposite direction. The drugs were clearly taking effect.

"Oh, I'm not?" I suppressed a grin.

"No-pe." She raised a finger to her lips as she continued to stare at me. "It's a secret, so don't tell him, okay?" She was definitely loopy now. Totally gone.

"You don't want me to tell Mamoru that you think he's handsome?" I clarified.

She shook her head and closed her eyes. "If he figures out how perfect he is, he'll never like me back."

Her revealed insecurities cut through my chest like a knife. What are the ethics of listening to someone ramble on about you in a drug-induced state of vulnerable honesty? Unfortunately, there was nothing I could do at the present moment to reassure her. She didn't even know who she was talking to, let alone what she was saying.

"You should get some rest." I started to get up when I felt her sudden grip on my arm like a mechanical clamp and I turned back to find her eyes ablaze with fierce intensity.

Then she said something I never could have predicted.

"Do you believe in reincarnation?"

I blinked, then blinked again, her words swimming around my head.

What. the. hell!?

And then, just as suddenly, she released me and sank back onto the bed, fast asleep.


I had been waiting several hours for Usagi to wake up while my brain was running in overdrive. Reincarnation? Was she really experiencing the same things I was? Her dream had been one thing–I could have brushed it off as just a coincidence–but now she was mentioning the same topic that had been driving me crazy for the past few weeks. Could Usagi really be the girl from my dreams?

Seated in the armchair in the corner of my room, I watched Usagi's sleeping silhouette from a distance, waiting for any sign she was waking from her slumber. The cool moonlight from the window illuminated her sleeping form and I watched her chest continue to rise and fall evenly. She was still fast asleep. But the moment she awoke, I would need some answers.

This seemed as good a time as any to analyze the facts. I picked up a stray notebook and pen from the end table next me and began to make a list. I liked lists. Lists were clear and informative. Lists made sense. Lists were safe. Lists always worked.

1. I have been having recurring dreams for months that appear to be increasing in both frequency and intensity.

2. In every dream, I see the same woman.

3. This woman is connected to me.

4. I see her and myself in a myriad of scenes with differing dress, location, and time periods.

5. I have never seen her face, but the woman is small and blonde.

6. Usagi is small and blonde.

7. Usagi mentioned a dream of her own similar to one of mine.

8. Usagi mentioned reincarnation.

9. I am in love with Usagi.

10. Usagi will have to be the one to confirm my hypothesis.

My eyes coursed over the words again and again, willing the riddle to be solved. I wasn't quite sure how number nine slipped itself in there, but there was no denying the list. It was true. And, I realized, it had always been true. From the first time she threw a crumpled test paper at my head, I knew I needed to be close to her. Without justification for those feelings, I developed our dynamic of teasing and fighting as a front. The Crown, which I had previously only visited for morning coffee, had become my favorite afternoon spot as I hoped just to catch a glimpse of Usagi on her way home from school. I felt an unwarranted, primal need to protect her from any man who so much as glanced her way. And, perhaps most telling, I had let her spend the weekend with me in my apartment. I was undeniably and gratuitously in love with Usagi. Could it be that some part of me remembered her from my past lives? That I've been in love with her for thousands of years already, and that was why it was so easy to fall in love with her now?

The logical, and perhaps cynical, side of myself, however, told me that this was entirely too convenient. The most reasonable explanation was that Usagi and I were being ruled by our raging hormones. Chemicals created within our own bodies, fueled by the biological need to preserve our species, and triggering physical and emotional responses that would lead to our coupling and procreating.

Procreating with Usagi. Oh, God.

But no, I could not deny that I, Chiba Mamoru, was, in fact, in love with Tsukino Usagi. It was in my list, after all, and every fiber of my being knew it to be true. However, that brought up another issue: How would we manage a relationship? With my being eighteen and Usagi only 15, could I love her openly? And with the intensity and familiarity of potentially thousands of years? In the eyes of society, she was still a child, and I was a seedy old pervert, taking advantage of young women behind closed doors. Well, maybe that was exaggerating, but she was young. I found myself wondering when her birthday was and felt disappointed in myself when I realized I didn't know. How much did we really know about each other, anyway?

My resolve began to waver. The things I had been so certain of just moments before–my love for Usagi, my need to be with her–were now tainted with doubt. My head fell into my hands. What do I do?

Just then, a groan emitted from the wriggling lump of blankets on the bed. Two miniature hands popped out from their cocoon and peeled away the wrappings.

"What did you give me?" Usagi accused, sitting up and pressing the heels of her hands to her temples.

I snapped the notebook shut and tossed it on the table, swallowing the lump in my throat.

"I'm not too sure, to be honest. How are you feeling?" I surveyed her from my seat in the corner. She still looked a little green.

"Still a little nauseous. And my head is killing me. But I don't think I have a fever anymore."

"That's good. Would you like some more medicine?"

Honestly, I wasn't entirely sure that was a good idea. But it had effectively knocked her out so she could sleep through what appeared to be the worst of the virus.

She gave me a pointed look. "No thanks. I'll just take some Tylenol." She contemplated. "And some water."

"Coming up." I felt her eyes on my back as I left the room.

I returned shortly and offered Usagi a fresh glass of water and two (larger) white pills.

"Thanks," she accepted, and gulped them down, finishing off the glass. "So," she began after a moment of silence, "I get the feeling I was pretty out of it, huh?"

I shrugged coolly. "Sort of."

"Did I say something?" Her voice was timid, like a child about to be reprimanded.

I looked away, suddenly overcome with guilt. I knew I was hurting her with my feigned indifference. It was a stark contrast to how intimate we had been a few hours ago. But I had become too close to her too quickly. I was supposed to be the responsible adult in this situation and I had let myself get carried away. What kind of protector am I?

"No, Usagi, everything is fine." I placed my hand over hers reassuringly and forced myself to smile. "I'm just adjusting to my new title. That's all."

"What new title?" Her brow furrowed.

"'The most beautiful man in the world,' I believe it was."

Her hands flew to her cheeks, trying in vain to cover her blush. "I did not say that!"

"You did. And you told me not to tell myself, too. I guess I let the cat out of the bag on that one. Sorry," I said with a grin.

She squinted her eyes at me.

"Obviously I didn't want you to know because I didn't want your head getting any bigger than it already is!" She grabbed a nearby pillow and smacked me in the ear, as if trying to knock some of the ego right out.

I couldn't help but laugh. No matter what the circumstances were, Usagi could always lift my spirits. Before she could hit me with the pillow again, I caught her hand and delivered a gentle kiss to her palm.

"Hey, I have to be handsome if I'm going to have any chance of keeping up with you."

I watched with enjoyment as a fresh blush spread across her cheeks. She threw her arms around me then and I returned her embrace. With Usagi securely in my arms, the last remaining clouds of my sour mood evaporated and my heart filled with sunshine once more. Why was I trying to distance myself? I didn't even remember.

"Did I say anything else embarrassing?" She mumbled incoherently into my shirt.

I kissed the top of her head. "You don't need to be embarrassed, Usako. Not with me." She snuggled in closer and tightened her hold on me.

Once again, Usagi's stomach spoke for itself. A loud grumble erupted from the tiny human and I wondered how she could possibly be hungry after what she had just gone through.

She peeked up at me, her eyes shining clearly again. There's that twinkle. "Do you think it's safe for me to eat something now?"


"Hey, Mamo-chaaan?" Her voice had that specific sing-song quality that girls get when they want something.

I was seated at my desk in the living room, bent over my studies. She had come up behind me and rested her chin on my shoulder.

"Yes?" I pretended to be indifferent to her little show,bBut the truth was she already had me wrapped around her finger. The words on the page stopped being legible the second I heard her voice.

"Since I'm feeling sooo much better, can we still go to the carnival today?"

I bit back a grin.

"I don't see why not."

She squealed. "Thank you, thank you, Mamo-chan!" She planted a quick peck on my cheek. "It'll be our first real date!"

It was fulfilling to see her so excited to be spending time with me. And I would be lying if I said I wasn't enticed by the idea of finally taking Usagi on a real date. But her celebration was cut short as a look of horror claimed her face and she froze.

"Usako, what's wrong? Do you need the bucket?" I began looking around furiously for where we had left it.

"No, worse. I don't have anything to wear!" She gasped. "I have to call Ami and Mako."

She flew to the phone that hung on the kitchen wall and dialed a number she knew by heart.

"Mako-chan! It's Usagi. Yes. Yes! Listen..." she glanced over her shoulder suspiciously at me and then put her hand over the mouthpiece. "Do you mind?"

I took that as my cue to leave. Women. I raised my hands defensively and left the room with a chuckle, giving her privacy to gossip, I presumed, about me.

A few minutes later, Usagi called out to me from the living room in a rush.

"Mamo-chan! I'm headed over to Mako's!"

I darted out of my room, determined to intercept her before she left.

"What? Why?" Very smooth. I cleared the panic from my voice and tried again. "Do you need a ride?"

"No, that's okay." She flashed me a full set of teeth and slung her purse over her shoulder. "Mako-chan's apartment is actually only a few blocks from here and I think the fresh air will do me good. I'm going to get ready with the girls. I have to look my best, you know!" She blew me a kiss. "I'll meet you at the carnival in an hour, okay?"

"Yeah, sure," I said, still a little dazed from the whirlwind that was Usagi. "See you then."

And then she was gone. And the apartment felt uncomfortably quiet.

I checked the clock. Four thirty. I should probably take a shower. In no rush, I made my way to the bathroom and turned on the water. Usagi's sweats-I mean, my sweats-were still strewn across the floor. One corner of my mouth tugged upward in satisfaction at the evidence that she really had been here with me last night. I didn't even care that she had been throwing up.

I stripped off my clothes and stepped into the hot water, enjoying the relaxing massage on my tight muscles. Suddenly I was feeling exhausted. The lack of sleep must have finally been catching up to me. Yawning, I began washing my hair, remembering how it felt to have Usagi's fingers tangled up in it the night before. My own fingers couldn't even compare to the amazing sensations she stirred inside of me. My thoughts wandered, recalling as much about that episode in my bed as I could. Her taste, her smell, the sound of her breathing hard and fast. The flesh of her leg in my hand. Her delicious curves. The feeling of her soft breasts pressed against me. Her voluptuous lips on my neck…

My stomach tightened in anticipation and I let the water run down my face. What on earth was I going to do about tonight? She most certainly could not sleep in my bed again. If she did, you could be sure there would not be any sleeping going on. And I really wasn't looking to get arrested. Especially not so soon into our relationship. But how in the world could I muster the strength to turn her away if she came crawling back into my room in the middle of the night? My stomach lurched again and all at once the water of the shower was too hot. I needed to cool down and get myself in order before I faced Usagi again.

I shut off the water and grabbed a towel, wrapping it around myself before stepping out onto the tile. I had expected the cool air of the bathroom to be a reprieve from the stifling steam of the shower, but instead I began to sweat and abruptly felt dizzy.

Oh no.

No longer able to hold it back, I dropped to my knees and promptly emptied my stomach into the toilet bowl.

This is not happening.

I continued to be sick for several minutes, not noticing my towel unwrapping itself from my hips and sliding to the floor. Finally I was graced with an interlude of peace between waves of nausea and my senses returned to me.

Taking advantage of what would probably be my only opportunity, I rose quickly to my feet and made my way to the kitchen, clinging to the walls for support along the way. I picked up the phone to call Usagi before I realized that I had no way to reach her. I didn't know Makoto's number, or any of the girls' numbers for that matter. Usagi probably had a phone book, but that was most likely in her purse, which was with her. I growled and pulled my hair in frustration. What was I going to do?

I was suddenly overcome by another wave, only this was more like a tsunami. I dropped the phone and clutched either side of the kitchen sink, forcing it back by sheer will of mind. Where are those damn pills? Anyone who might have happened to look in would have seen a mad man stumbling around my apartment, naked and dripping, leaving chaos in his wake. Dishes were toppled, puddles formed on the tile, and the phone dangled loosely from the receiver.

Eventually, I was able to make it back to my bed where I found the bottle of pills, forced one down, and almost immediately let the release of sleep carry me away.