Disclaimer: I don't own anything. All rights to respective owners.
A/N: GUYS GUYS GUYS GUYS GUYS! It's the reveal chapter! Yes yes you will now know who exactly is the mysterious chess player! But oh don't worry, this isn't the last chapter. Here is the reveal chapter of the little Coffee AU that could! There's just very small time hops that hopefully you'll figure out lol I hope you all enjoy and god, please feed my geek side and tell me in the reviews what you thought about the huge reveal! Enjoy!
Oh yea and regular disclaimer of: I'm sorry if it sucks and you regret reading this whole story after all. Was not my intention lol
Chapter Nine
The secretary poked her head around her computer after ending her phone call. "It'll be just a few more minutes Tsukino-san."
"Uh-thank you," Usagi stumbled out, biting her lip right after, staring at the small clock hanging on the wall across from her. Each second ticked by and her lungs felt more and more constricted as it went on.
It was just a regular meeting. A required, and forced meeting, but still, just a regular meeting.
That could make or break her chances, but whatever, right?
She could always work at a fast food restaurant…
"You can go in now Tsukino-san."
Usagi politely recepociated the woman's smile with a tight and trembling one. Her legs were shaking and she discovered her hand was too, when it curled around the office doorknob and it began rattling.
She swallowed thickly. She was Usagi Tsukino, master of all mistakes, cluminess, unfortunates, but she was also Usagi Tsukino, master of smiling through everything and seeing the light at the end of the dim, sucky tunnel.
One dumb (once again, fucking required) advising meeting with Professor Shiro was not going to be the end of her. Maybe her career….
"Ah Miss Tsukino-san." The wrinkled old man didn't even look up from his studies when the blonde nearly tripped on the edge of his rug as she entered.
She flushed to the shade of a tomato by the time her bottom fell to one of the two dark green, leather chairs that sat in front of the deep mahogany wood desk, Professor Shiro in his all wisdom, grey-haired glory, seated behind in a tall, comfortable plush chair.
It was at least a few minutes of erratic pencil scratching and Usagi fiddling with the hem of the black, modest A-line sundress or one of the plastic buttons sewn on the dark blue blazer. Both clothing pieces were courtesy of Ami's closet since Professor 'Shit-ro' wasn't the most keen on her regular, bright, lively, class outfits. If there ever was a time to please the quack-bean, today was the day.
And she nearly jumped, the chair fabric squeaking against her, when the pencil clattered to the wood surface.
"So Tsukino," he emphasised, propping open a shiny brown file folder, before finding her twitching gaze, "Tell me why I should pass you and let you move on to achieve your master's degree?"
The peach-sized lump lodged in her tight throat, trembled. This was it. She could either 'wow' the teacher who has had a vendetta against her since the first day when she spilled her milk tea all over his class notes, or she could flunk out and have the disgrace of being denied a master's degree.
"Well Professor Shiro," she started, "I have the right to pass this class because I have been very much hardworking, appropriate-"
"Evidence?"
She was thrown for a loop, her cue cards hadn't prepared her for this. "I'm sorry, w-what?"
He was scribbling something into the file folder, not meeting her eyes, voice emotionless. "Please cite some evidence Miss Tsukino that backs up your claims."
Evidence? "E-evidence-"
"Yes, evidence. The available body of facts indicating whether a belief is true or valid," he explained to her, as if she was in grammar school.
"Uh well some evidence w-would be-" at her stutters, his wrist flicked with the pencil over the paper "-uuhhh there was that one paper when I wrote about my work and research with the orphanages I visited-"
His bony wrist stopped. "Could you recall your grade for that particular paper?"
She rapidly blinked, her red blush flaring up more. "It was a…..79. But that was only because of my flaky citation sources that you graded heavily on-"
"Any other additional convincing evidence you have to offer?"
Her mind racked for a single piece of credible, decent classwork that would get Professor Shiro to stop looking at her- like that, that disapproving stare her parents used to give her. It made her want to curl into a ball and hide from the world, hide her dishonor of herself.
"Well let's just move on then," he sighed, eyes peeking out from the top of his glasses that made her gulp with fear. "Why did you choose this kind of major Miss Tsukino?"
'Thank you cue cards!' "Well," she started cheerfully, "I was always clueless on what to do in life when my high school graduation was approaching-"
"So social work just seemed like something you could fall into and something to do."
"Yes," she answered with a smile but the smile fell and her eyes exploded. "Wai-wait! I didn't mean it like that!"
He flinched at the defense and the redness returned to her face as his wrist kept flicking- "I just meant I was confused on how to really use my skills and abilities correctly in my life but I found that social work really fit me like a glove and I could really see my career in the field really exceling."
His bushy eyebrows wavered slightly and she frowned but nearly facepalmed when she recalled her sentence that used 'really' four times. He hated repetitive word play.
'If I'm lucky, Mr. Furuhata is hiring at the arcade.'
"Next question," His beady, judgemental, little eyes bore into her shivering soul. "What do you want from life Miss Tsukino?"
She froze, more confused than anything. "E-excuse me?"
He paused then slid his glasses off his face while leaning back into his chair. "Every year, and with every student I ask this question, more of a personal question than academic but I feel it gives the individual some perspective to their life."
"So Tsukino-san, what do you desire from your life?"
Her double-practicing of her homemade cue notes did NOT prepare her for this curveball. What did she want? Would it be so cheesy to say that she wanted to be happy? Or go for the classic answer of a blossoming career, loving husband, 2.5 kids, a dog (this case a cat), and a big house with a white picket fence?
But that's what she wanted, no?
Was it…..
"I don't know," she uttered, her shoulders falling along with her eyes. She lost her sight of a future a long time ago because life showed her that nothing of what she planned was going to work out, that many things would hit her like a speeding car, with no warning and sometimes she won't recover and that it was normal. Life was never going to be 100% her perfect vision.
So what did she want truly anymore?
A phone ringing brought her out of her trance. "Professor Shiro you have the Dean calling for you. Should I tell her to call back?"
Her teacher pressed a button. "No that's fine Chiko-san. Put her on hold, I'm finished."
It was like her heart had dropped to the floor and a crowd had stomped on it numerous times.
No. No.
"So Tsukino-"
"I can do better I swear!"
He then froze for once in bewilderment.
"Give me another chance, I can do better I swear! That last question caught me off guard and I've been going through a lot, believe me. And I want to give you all I am- I mean professionally of course! A-and I just need one more try-"
"Tsukino-"
"Just one more damn time please! I deserve that from you! I try in class, I really do! I care sooooo much and it's not fair-"
"Tomorrow at two."
Then she was frozen. "Tomorrow? At two?"
"Yes," he looked up to meet her her wide blue eyes, "Will that be a problem?"
"No!-I mean not at all P-professor Shiro," she plead, realizing she was standing and leaning toward him, hands braced on the desk which she quickly let go of after said realization. "Thank you, thank you! Tomorrow at two! I'll be here, bright and early!"
"Good," he replied, returning to the paperwork, wrist flurioshing against the paper, "It'll give you more time to think over my last question. I expect a more proper answer tomorrow Tsukino."
Her heart clenched and Usagi let her exterior fall for a second but she came back up. "Y-you got it! I'll blow you away with my answer tomorrow Professor Shiro! Just watch, or listen really!"
"I can hardly wait," he muttered as the blonde gathered her belongings and scattered away and out the door.
The secretary bid her farewell but Usagi could barely answer her when she reached the fancy elevator, a relieved breathe puffed from her glossed lips as she nearly collapsed on one of the railings.
One meeting, done.
Another, far more riskier, meeting on the horizon.
She checked her watch. 4:00.
Her eyes shut and she felt the blood rush to her face.
'Please come….'
"You got another one?"
The seventeen-year-old blonde blushed, but nevertheless proudly presented her love letter for all her crazed and disbelieving friends sitting at the picnic table. "Is it possible that he's getting even more sweeter with each note?"
"Oh yea I'm practically getting diabetes.."
Rei popped an elbow into Minako. "Stop being 'Mrs. Green with Envy' idiot. Be happy for her."
The red-ribboned blonde stuck her tongue out to the black-haired teen but quickly straightened when she caught sight of the fallen face of the adjacent blonde. "No Usagi I'm not jealous at all! I'm happy that someone realizes how amazing you are and obviously cares for you….."
"Then what," Usagi questioned, her sandwich forgotten on the plastic bag.
"...it's just," Minako scrunched up her face, her gaze boring into her unfinished bento,"...are you sure they're from Masao?"
"Minako," Makoto scolded from her spot.
"Oh come on, like we're all not thinking it," she admitted with a pointed look. "You think Mr. Self-Absorbed could really write something that could pass as the work of Shakespete-"
"-Pear," Ami corrected but Minako ignored her.
"-like it's insane to think of that meathead writing this," she turned to a hurt Usagi, "I'm sorry Usa, but I don't believe it."
The pigtailed blonde picked at the edge of the white card, biting her lip to keep the tears in. "T-then who could it be Minako?" She cursed hearing the broken tone of her voice. She was never good at stopping her feelings.
"I-I don't know. M-maybe your cute locker neighbor with the dreamy eyes? Or that one boy who always bumps into you on the stairs? Hell, maybe that one geek who sits next next to you in Chemis-"
"You're wrong Minako," Usagi cut her off harsh. "It's Masao, I know it."
Stuffing her trash and unfinished food into her lunch bag, tears shining but not falling. She stomped away, not minding her other friend's calls to come back, to talk about this but she didn't want to hear it. It was Masao, he said it was.
Why would he lie? Why go to the trouble?
And who else could possible like her this much…
"Do you want an open casket or a closed casket?"
Usagi rolled her eyes as she poked the earring through the hole. "I'm not going to get murdered Minako."
"That is exactly what murders victims say right before they go to a date with someone they don't know and get murdered."
"Then what the hell are blind dates?"
Usagi swiveled around to face the open laptop and almost came to the conclusion that the video feed at frozen but ditched it when Minako blinked confused. "Uhhhhh….because on blind dates a person you trust, knows the date and therefore trusts them and in turn you trust your trustful friend so you trust your date not to chop you up into little pieces and bury you in a park where dogs poop and pee all over your grave."
Crystal blue eyes narrowed at the camera. "Have you been binge watching those American crime shows?"
Again, frozen but then unfrozen, along with a sigh. "It's the only thing they have on the TV in the hotel room. Brightside, I can now determine if someone died from drowning or strangulation."
"Oh yes very useful," Usagi amused with a smile.
She finally was able to clip in her dangly earrings, the ones that produced flowing movement every time she turned her head. Plus it drew some attention to her smooth neck.
"You look really pretty Usa."
She felt the corners of her mouth pull up at her friend's compliment. "Thanks Minako. I wish you were here with me, fussing over what to wear or obsessing over my choice of lipgloss."
They both laughed, Minako nodding her head. "I really miss you guys but at least next week is coming and the honeymoon phase will sadly, not so sadly be over."
Another cheerful laugh on both ends.
Then it was silent, besides the blonde in the apartment shuffling around, arranging things, checking her reflection often. She had to look, or at least, appear perfect.
Minako broke the silence, poking at the elephant in the room finally. "You really think he's going to come?"
Usagi paused in moisturizing her hands but resumed, thankful that she had moved away from the laptop camera, Minako having always been a wiz at seeing her emotional walls. "I have to believe he is."
"But what if he doesn't?"
"Then he doesn't okay," she replied, rough and harsh. 'He was coming, he was.' She softened, her heart beat lowering. "I have to go Minako, it was nice at least talking to you and seeing you at the same time."
She heard a light chuckle and saw a soft smile but she knew Minako wasn't all there. "Yea it was. Have fun tonight, and don't get murdered."
"Alright," Usagi respected, grinning.
"And Usagi," Minako spoke just before her finger hit the key. "Remember, love is not something you find, it's something that finds you Usa."
That ball of butterflies at the base of her stomach grew ten folds even after she said goodbye, and hung up on Minako's video call, padding over to the bathroom.
With nimble fingers, the golden beauty twisted pieces of hair around the hot rod, creating the waves she desired. Then her lips looked dull so she quickly plucked out a tube of shiny lip gloss from her turquoise makeup bag. She swiped some on, cleaning off the edges of her soft lips.
Her face looked presentable, beautiful she would dare to say but….
What if she wasn't enough?
That while she sits at the coffee shop, all eager and ready, he comes in, sees her, and walks straight out. Her looks have never been a problem before, all his reddening compliments were evident of that, as well as their more intimate text conversations, but maybe she wasn't pretty for him anymore, losing her appeal in the daytime.
What-what if she was boring or annoying or-
She felt the tears build but had vowed to never let them fall again over a simple guy.
'But it wasn't just a simple guy.'
Nothing about him seemed simple.
If there ever was a way to describe a complicated relationship, hers was the perfect example. She knows bits and pieces of him, enough to bring together a tragic past and aspiring future but nothing, nothing, could bring the same feeling as seeing him, face to face.
Usagi had abandoned trying to deduce who it was using the high school notes, it lead her through rabbit holes and stuck at dead ends so she started a blank slate and forgot about it.
Masao would never remember the guy's name (and even if he did, Usagi was sure the creep wouldn't even admit it) and she wouldn't deal with the headache of mentally shuffling through every single male member of her high school.
She tightened her left bun, adding an extra bobby pin to that one strand that always stood out if she didn't tend to it.
"Love is not something you find, it's something that finds you Usa…"
She sighed. 'But what if love doesn't want to find me?'
"Seriously dude? Love letters?"
He twitched on the floor, curling up next to his askewn bag. Trying to be so small, and disappear into the school woodwork.
"And to my girlfriend?"
He avoided the mocking gaze.
"But really I should be thanking you."
His stomach wanted to expel everything it had from lunch.
"It's funny how you wrote the letters, trying to proclaim your 'love' to her but in the end, you forgot to sign your name."
He shut his eyes, but god, he couldn't shut his ears.
"And now she thinks it's me. Like I said, funny."
It was his fault.
"You've actually made it worse for you and helped me."
He was an idiot and coward afterall.
"And now," his voice became closer, and a pair of shoes appeared when he lifted his eyelids just a tad. "You're going to keep helping me."
'No. Say it. Say no.'
"Because it's not like you're going to confess to her. You know that she would never in a million years, go for you."
His eyes shut again.
"So just keep doing what you're doing…"
He heard sheets of paper rustling.
"...keep writing your heart out lover boy."
He came to the sight of the smirking football player, holding out one of his spilled notebooks, the one that he used to plan out his writings. Where he wrote things he never ever would say out loud.
The notebook in which he wrote all his love for Usagi Tsukino.
The last bit of coffee swished around at the bottom of her paper cup, making her cringe and restrain from drinking the now cold liquid. Usagi raised a hand, signaling another round of caffeine to the female barista at the counter.
After the brunette nodded and disappeared into the back to prepare the said coffee, Usagi found her eyes back to the front door where numerous Japanese citizens were flowing in and out of the shop, slipping past each other with ease and not giving much thought to who they did interact with.
She watched as each person paid her no attention, just drinking from the black lids of their paper cups or eyes glued to their phone, little human interaction happening besides the pairs or groups of friends.
People watching always seemed to fill the boredom void when her phone fell victim to low battery, or when she was procrastinating homework, so it was only just to slip into that glazed-eyed mindset of observing the different people of Tokyo.
There was a elderly man sitting at a table, sipping his order from a fluorescent orange ceramic mug, wrinkles creased and sharp, obviously concentrating or afflicted by some burden placed on him. Across a few tables, there was a girl, a few years younger than Usagi, drowning in binders and packets and highlighters and were those tissues?
Stifling a half sigh-half giggle, her eyes landed next to a couple that were a few feet from her and waiting in line. She couldn't quite hear their conversation from afar and at such a noise level but she could see the tall guy's smirk to the girl as his lips moved, saying something, and whatever it was, caused the long-haired girl to turn to him with a shocked gasp that converted to an open mouth smile and an affectionate swat to the shoulder.
She frowned and she lowered her gaze, her eyes fell to the checkered, wooden board in front of her.
It was only 6:15, maybe his train ran late? Or he hadn't gotten out of work yet? Or perhaps he was lost…
'Or he's not coming at all.'
She shook it off, taking the new cup of coffee gratefully from the barista's hand when she came sweeping in.
He was coming.
It's only 7:00, there was still a glimmer of hope left for her.
Then it was almost 8:00. Still, she felt hope, it was just a slit but it was there, shining.
And then it was 10:00 and people were barely hanging on or leaving out the door but she didn't notice, just kept watching her phone ever so once in a while when it lit up.
She thought after the voicemail, that maybe…...he would come because he felt….
His voicemail, he sounded so-or did she read it all wrong?
Why couldn't it be easy-why couldn't he just make it easy?
She gave him every single opportunity to just show up and meet her, face to face at the place where it all started.
"Usagi?"
The name forced her to move and she prayed when she looked up it was him, standing over her, ready to apologize for being so late and being the biggest idiot in the world…
But she sighed and lowered her eyes, body visibly deflating. "Yes?"
"We're closing now," Wasu said, a tender look in his eyes. He knew who she had been waiting for and Usagi could just feel his pity radiate from him.
She opened her phone. 11:15. "Alright, can you just give me a few more minutes?"
He nodded, that soft, understanding smile that she had gotten so used to on his lips. "Of course. I'm just heading out and thought I should say bye."
"What's up with your plans tonight," she asked, a half smile somehow rising.
He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. "Well me and Aika were just going to stay in tonight and watch a movie, probably fall asleep during it."
"Nice," she mused looking back down, shaking her empty paper cup.
"Hey, can you whip up another," Wasu called out to the counter, a deep "sure" answering him back.
"You don't have to," Usagi stopped him, "Please."
He shook his head, that stupid, warm smile still there. "No, I want to. This place practically runs on your orders."
"Very true," she laughed softly, feeling grateful for the chance of having a smile. "Thank you."
"My pleasure," he replied, friendly smile growing. "I'll get going then, leave you to your date."
She snorted. "What date," she muttered, but he heard it anyway.
"Hey, some guys just don't know what huge mistakes they're making," Wasu acknowledged, voice echoing in the empty shop, a little bit louder.
"Thanks," Usagi said. He smiled brightly one last time before heading out. "Tell Akia I said hi!"
"I'll tell her," he shouted, then the door opened and shut, leaving her to herself.
It was over. She had promised that if he didn't come, it would be over, she would never bother him again, she wouldn't think about him everyday and wonder who the hell he was. Maybe she'll pass him on the street and never know. Maybe she'll sit next to him on the train and won't mind a speck of attention to him.
She could see him, even talk to him, and she would never know who he was.
She threaded her hand through her bangs, so frustrated and wishing to pull out every root.
It was like reading her favorite book, relishing in the mystery and romance and intensity, but discovering that the last page was missing.
She'll never know what color his hair is, or it's length. Or the color of his eyes. Or his smile, or his laugh…..
A cup landed on the chess board and she opened her glossy eyes to the floor, a pair of familiar black, bleach-stained sneakers next to her nude heels.
But they twisted around and were about to leave-
"Thanks Rue," Usagi rushed out, swatting away the moisture that had run down her cheeks, straightening in her seat to see his frozen back.
"No problem." And he continued on but her brows furrowed.
"I didn't know you made coffee," she inferred, needing a conversation to keep her clear, "Like a barista."
He seemed to finally get what she was doing and turned around to properly fill in the conversation she was trying to desperately have with someone, anyone. "I was a barista, sometimes I still am, but I just drifted to the cleaning duties more…"
"Oh," she said, taking a test sip of the steaming coffee, and she forced her eyes not to roll back at the amazing taste that her taste buds.
She gave a very appreciative groan. "Well, m-maybe you should be a barista more. This is heaven in a cup."
And she saw his lips quirk into a lopsided grin under his cap, one, she noticed, that appears only when she says something barely half-amusing, or she pulls an 'Usagi' antic such as spilling her coffee or running into the front door more than once on occasion. "Good to know. I'll go tell Wasureta and I'm sure he'll quickly put me on the schedule."
"Great! Just tell me the times and I'll be here waiting for some top-of-the-line java!"
Then he chuckled, his chest rumbling. "Alright."
He turned again, probably getting ready to kick her out of here and get to his own life.
But….
"So how long have you been here?"
She needed some kind of conversation, and out of all of them, Rue seemed to avoid her the most, coming up to her only when prompted by someone else. He was a closed book, a trait she was way too unfamiliar with. Even if she probably had the most humiliating, hopeless Friday ever, she couldn't help but try to talk to someone human before retreating to her awaiting cat and fish.
He skidded to a stop again, half turned to her. "Uh I think about like four-three years?"
"Wait four-"
"-maybe three-"
"-years, and I just talked to you a few months ago," she asked, shell-shocked. Sure, she didn't know everyone who worked here but four years and nothing?
"Uh it's okay, really," he insisted softly, "I usually blend in and I'm behind the scenes anyway."
This time, she let him retreat to the counter and return to closing up. The loneliness creeped up again as she was left alone in the shop with her delicious coffee.
For some reason, she still didn't leave, instead, she leaned back and snatched up the white queen from the board, twirling it around in her fingers. Then she plucked the black king from the other side, placing it next to her queen.
She just looked at them. Staring, like a crazy person at two, innocent chess pieces.
And it was back, the stinging in the backs of her eyes and she didn't know why. She didn't know the reason for a lot of things that had happened, not one, but this was the strangest.
Usagi collected all of the black pieces and rolled the cylinders up and down her fingers. He had touched all of these at some point during their game.
"I really am a crazy lady," she whispered to no one but herself, a single tear climbing down her face as she pushed the black pieces away from her. Away from her life.
'You have to move on now,' her mind stated. She raked her hands through her blonde pigtails, pulling as she dropped her throbbing head between her knees. 'Move. On.'
She heard shoe squeaks go past her, half-expecting for Rue to tell her that she should leave. But the shoe squeaks kept passing her over and over again, chair scraping accompanying them.
The squeaks over and over again, quick, high-pitched sounds. And then she heard them approaching one time-
"Is it my fault?"
He was past her but froze at the outburst. "What?"
Usagi watched his blurry, tense figure, since they weren't making eye contact. "Do you think it was my fault that this started? That I got too invested into something so stupid? That it was my fault because I moved the piece first? So it's my fault I'm sitting here alone…"
She needed to leave, right then, she needed to leave long ago but she couldn't bare to move. He was probably so bewildered at her behavior, inching towards the door just in case for an escape plan. The blonde expected no answer to her idiotic questions.
"No."
His feet shifted from her downcast view. "It wasn't your fault."
She hiccuped and blushed, surprised at his answer. "It's not?"
"No it's all his fault."
"Ho-"
"He's the one who wouldn't meet you. You shouldn't blame yourself."
The floor kept being blurry and she tried to focus… "But I was the one who started this, I presented my heart on a silver platter and I expected it not to get a little banged up." Her voice was hoarse and raspy now. Lifeless, almost.
"W-well love is like a war..."
Why did his feet keep shifting so much?
"...easy to start, but hard to end…"
He turned around to flip over a chair onto a table.
"-and you never know where it might take you."
She saw the muscles on his back and shoulders completely still at her identical words.
Her face was stoic, emotionless, but for her blinking eyes. "Oscar Wilde."
No.
It was like he broke out of the trance immediately, back still to her, flipping the chair like he hadn't paused at all. "You know your poets."
She watched him with curiosity, her wheels turning, generating. "Yea. Just got into him for some reason."
He was silent then. His lean arms flexed as he picked up a few more chairs and flipped them, his speed becoming more and more faster.
It was a thought-
'No. You're wrong. You need to go home.'
You could see his hands slightly trembling-
'It's just a coincidence idiot.'
His moves were erratic, almost anxious.
'You've been wrong and look at the results.'
The voice finally hit her and she shook her golden head. She should know better than to continue this, resume the guessing and pain. Usagi forced her eyes to only remain on the floor space in front of her, not on the innocent shop worker who was innocently cleaning up his workplace.
The smooth white surface of the paper cup rubbed against her palms…...
There was so much that was unresolved.
….her fingers traced the marker swipes…..
She would go on never knowing who this guy was.
….the symbols of her name….
All she had to truly remember 'Chess boy' by, was a cell phone number, scraps of writing, a fucked up voicemail, and lost memories.
…...the ups and downs and swirls…..
What if she remembered who it was, back in high school?
…...her finger traced all the handsome, neat lines…
Would it matter if she remembered?
….it was such nice, pretty handwriting…
No, it wouldn't.
….the writing was scrawled across the side of the cup and it looked so familiar with its flourishes and gentle touch….
Nothing could change her future.
…...it looked too familiar.
She froze, eyes leveling and slightly twitching when her mindless thoughts caught up to her.
It was all too familiar.
She observed the writing more intently, then, tracing the kanji more precisely and critically. She had seen this type of penmanship, she had memorized it over and over again, each cut and corner-
Whoever wrote this….
Usagi felt like she wasn't even moving anymore, but somehow watched her hand rise up and take hold of her phone, unlocking it, and opening up her contacts.
It was wrong, so wrong, she knew.
Somehow the line was already ringing and her heart was pounding against her ribcage and the phone should be slipping out of her hand from how sweaty and shaky it was.
The blonde prepared for silence, for her to be wrong, to not hear the other end….
It echoed against the walls, loud and clear. Mocking, maybe.
Her eyes closed, and a tear seeped out.
She had been so stupid.
Neither of them moved or even flinched at the piercing, ringing sound.
Time stood still and for a few seconds, Usagi wondered if it was even real what was happening. Her ears echoing and the ringing was so damn deafening-
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him move.
His shoulders were hunched and stiff, and ridgely, with a lot of hesitation, his hand disappeared into his deep, jeans pocket, and the vibrating, ringing phone emerged.
He was far, in the middle of flipping a chair when his phone had began ringing, but even from a distance she could read the caller I.D.
'Blondie'
Was it normal to start seeing spots, to have your fucking heart beating so hard that it was like a drum in your ears, your breath short and painful, having no control of your tear ducts and feeling wetness run all over your face.
Because that's what happened when Rue declined her call, shoved the phone back in his pocket, and whirled around, without his ball cap.
Silky, jet black strands of hair hung perfectly in front of intense, striking dark blue eyes that you could get lost in over and over. A straight nose and a sharp jawline completed a beautifully made face, then she was going down his broad shoulders, slim but muscled arms, narrow waist, and long legs clothed in dark jeans and a black t-shirt, with the coffee shop insignia printed on it.
But her eyes ran back up to his eyes, the only thing that let her click everything into perfect place in her mind. Those eyes, so sad, vulunable and s-scared?
She knew those eyes. She used to do anything to try and get those eyes to light up, to give them a spark of happiness in high school.
The name clogged her throat, but she said it, scratchy and broken because it took her so long to remember it.
"Mamoru Chiba."
To be continued…
And I'm sorry if it completely sucked again or you didn't like the reveal, but it would still be nice to get a somewhat positive review? Oh and for those who are continuing to read, I'm afraid next chapter will be more of a wait!