Hey there, all you beautiful readers! I've been in sort of a slump writing wise since Smutember. I just couldn't seem to get into the groove! It was very frustrating. So, I asked a few of my artist friends to draw me a picture of our OTP. My goal was to then write a fic based on their image. So here is the first one, given to me by my beautiful friend, Charlotte. I'm using her picture as the cover photo for this story. You can also visit her tumblr page, iamcharlotte88, to see a bigger version. Thank you so much for letting me use your beautiful art, Charlotte! Love you, girl!

And, of course, this was betaed by my bestie, Beej88. She's got a lot on her plate, because, you know, adulting sucks sometimes! Pandemic and real-life stuff. It's the worst, right? Anyway, she still took the time to beta this for me and make sure it was perfect before you guys read it. Thank you so much, Beej! Love you!

oOo

Mamoru walked through the sliding doors of the Crown Arcade, hands in the pockets of his blue jeans, and a small grin on his face when he took note of a certain Odango seated on the barstool beside his at the counter. As he headed in her direction, he slowed, his grin fading into a frown. Usagi was twiddling her thumbs and staring at her hands, something she only did when something was bothering her. He glanced at Motoki, who was serving a customer at the other end of the counter. They made eye contact and Motoki glanced at Usagi, then back to him, and shrugged.

She'd been acting strangely lately. The past week, she'd been a bit quieter whenever he was around, not engaging in their playful banter nearly as much as she used to. It always looked like she was on the verge of saying something before she'd stop, give up, and then just leave. Motoki had told him that her behavior was normal when he wasn't around, and her mood only changed the moment he entered the Crown. What had he done?

He'd thought about this a lot over the past few days, reviewed every encounter they'd had over the last two weeks in his head to see if there was any specific moment where he'd messed up. But nothing came to mind. Nothing was out of the ordinary; just their usual playful arguing back and forth. It just seemed like one day, out of the blue, she'd become standoffish and started acting differently.

Usagi didn't even look up as he approached, so lost with her own thoughts that she didn't even notice him. He took his green jacket off, draped it over the back of his chair, and she jumped, turning her wide eyes towards him. "Morning, Odango," he greeted, taking a seat. "It's not often you're here before me. What's going on? Is Motoki having a sale on chocolate milkshakes I'm not aware of? I'm sure that's the only reason you'd be here this early."

Her wide eyes narrowed, and she frowned. "My life doesn't revolve around chocolate milkshakes, you know," she snapped, and he couldn't help the smirk as that familiar fire flashed in her eyes. "Unlike you and your book obsessions. Who carries books around with them everywhere? It's because they're your only friends, isn't it?"

Her eyes widened again, and she looked almost ashamed of her retort as she turned back to the counter. Mamoru's heart sank. It was a good, snappy comeback, one he'd heard her use on him before. He never got upset by their banter. Because that's all it was. Banter. Why was she backing away from it now? What had he done?

She turned back to him slowly, eyeing him up and down. The corner of her lip slipped between her teeth, and she looked like she wanted to say something; like she was trying to find the right words. Something flashed in her eyes, he couldn't quite pinpoint what it was, but it definitely wasn't a look she usually gave him. It was gone before he could figure it out.

Suddenly, she stood, sliding off the seat of her stool. "I'm sorry, Mamoru," she said softly, now refusing to make eye contact. Mamoru? Not Mamoru-baka? "I have to go." And without another look back, she tore from the Crown, her feet carrying her as fast as possible without stumbling, through the doors, down the sidewalk, and out of sight.

Mamoru watched her go until he couldn't see her anymore and continued to stare at the closed door of the Crown as if she would skip back through, blonde tendrils tangled around her body. But she didn't, and he was left more confused than he'd ever been. What was happening?

"Hey," Motoki's voice came from behind the counter. "Sorry, I was busy with a customer. Where did Usagi go?"

"I'm not sure," Mamoru answered, his gaze still fixed on the door. "She just ran out of here." He turned in his seat and faced Motoki. "What's been going on with her lately?"

"You've noticed it, too, huh?" Motoki stared at the door for a moment like he just had, expecting her to run back in. "I don't know, man. The past week, she's been really fidgety and quiet, and I don't know, not herself? It's been weird."

"Yeah," Mamoru muttered, crossing his arms on the counter in front of him. "Every time I see her now..." He stopped when Motoki's eyes narrowed.

"You know," he started, suspicion lacing his voice, "she only starts acting like this when you come in. What did you do to her?"

Mamoru sat up straight, his body rigid in defense. "I didn't do anything! At least not anything different than I always do?"

Motoki frowned. "Sometimes you go a little too far…"

"And she doesn't?" He couldn't help cutting his friend off. He'd scoured his brain, trying to find a reason this could have been his fault, and he couldn't come up with anything. He understood why Motoki was questioning him, but, dammit, did he really think he'd intentionally do something to upset Usagi?

He sighed, slumping his shoulders a bit. "I promise I haven't done anything that would be considered… too far."

Motoki sighed, throwing the cloth from over his shoulder onto the counter. "Well, I don't know, man. Something is up with her."

Mamoru turned back toward the door and stared at it a moment. He couldn't take this anymore; the tension, the lack of banter, the shy looks. He had to know what was going on. "I'm going to go find out," he decided out loud and abruptly stood from the stool, grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair. He threw it around his shoulders, shoving his arms through.

Motoki frowned. "Now? Do you even know where she went?"

Mamoru hesitated, because no. Technically he didn't know where she'd gone. But he did have a few guesses. "I have a few places I can try," he said, fixing his collar before heading toward the entrance.

"Good luck!" Motoki called after him, and Mamoru responded with a wave as he headed through the doors and down the sidewalk in the direction Usagi had gone.

oOo

Mamoru made his way through the park, knowing his destination exactly. The fountain. It was Usagi's favorite place. And no, he wasn't some stalker who knew all of her favorite everythings. Well, at least the stalker part. He did know a lot about her. But after years of getting to know the girl, interacting with her almost daily, it was hard not to pick up on a few things.

The fountain was exactly where he found her, too. Sitting on the bench, staring at the water, her gorgeous blonde hair blowing with the slight breeze in the air. Yeah, he teased her about her hair now and then, but that was much easier than telling her how much he really loved it.

"Odango," he called out as he got closer so as to not make her jump again.

Her head snapped towards him, her eyes wider than he'd ever seen them. "What are you doing here, Mamoru?" she asked, desperation in her voice.

Mamoru shrugged, trying his best to come off as nonchalant as possible. "Can't a guy just walk through the park without getting the third degree anymore?" She didn't answer, watching him as he approached.

He stood beside the bench, looking down at her as she looked back up at him. The tension was so thick he could practically see it swirling in the air around them. He tilted his head toward the bench, indicating he wanted to sit beside her. She sat for a moment, almost looking like she was deciding if she wanted to move over or not. Finally, with a sigh, she slid to the opposite end of the bench, giving him plenty of room to sit.

He took a seat beside her, and they were blanketed in silence again. He looked at her from the corner of his eye, but she stared straight ahead, keeping her eyes glued on the fountain in front of her.

Finally, he couldn't take it anymore and cleared his throat. "So," he started, nerves making him want to just get up and leave. "Want to talk about it?" He didn't miss the sound of her breath hitching, and a flutter of worry unfurled in his chest.

"Talk about what?" He could tell she was trying to sound nonchalant, too, but he couldn't mistake the tremor in her voice, see her swallow through whatever lump was building in her throat. Her hands gripped the bench seat on either side of her legs, and she stared straight ahead, avoiding eye contact altogether.

Mamoru leaned back, putting his hands behind his head in the most blasé manner he could think of, hoping it would calm her as well. "About whatever is bothering you? You've been acting strange lately." He hoped his contrived calm and collected demeanor belied the worry raging inside of him.

He watched her closely as she chewed her bottom lip, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees, her eyes falling to her feet. She looked confused, worried, like she wanted to say something but couldn't. It made him nervous. He'd never known her to not talk to him, yell at him, anything. She'd never been silent around him before. What could have possibly changed so much?

"Did I…" he could hear the nerves in his voice this time and couldn't do anything about it as he leaned forward a bit, dropping his hands to his lap, "did I do something, say something, that went...too far?" He cringed even as he said it, hearing Motoki's reproachful tone in his head.

Her eyes widened, and her head snapped towards him so quickly he thought she might have given herself whiplash. "No!" she cried out loudly. "I mean...you didn't...it's just..." she growled in obvious frustration and turned back to the fountain with a huff.

Mamoru slowly leaned forward, lowering his voice. "Usagi," he started and saw her stiffen at the use of her real name, something that rarely ever happened. "Whatever I did...I'm sorry."

Her shoulders dropped, and she sighed. "No," she said softly, in the most defeated tone he'd ever heard come from her lips. "You didn't do anything wrong, Mamoru. I'm just…" she paused, and he knew she was considering her next words. "Mamoru," she eyed him from the corner of her eye. "Can I... can I ask you something?"

"Of course, Usagi," he said immediately. Then he smirked, bumping her shoulder with his own in an attempt to lighten the mood. "We may pick on each other sometimes…" she raised an eyebrow and he couldn't help but chuckle, "okay, most of the time. But I'd like to think we're still friends...right?"

She turned her head to look at him and smiled. "Yeah. Friends."

She went silent and turned back to the fountain. It was awkward. This whole situation was uncomfortable, and he didn't know why. There was definitely something he was missing. Things had never been awkward like this between them before, and he didn't like it one bit.

Mamoru lifted an eyebrow. "Sooooo?"

Usagi sighed again, keeping her eyes on the water flowing out of the fountain. "Okay, so… okay, I've realized that I kind of like this guy, right?" She said it in a rush as if worried that if she didn't say it quickly, she wouldn't. "But I don't think he likes me. In fact, I know he doesn't like me. Like, at all. I mean, I guess maybe he does a little bit. Like as friends. Which is good, you know? But I'm pretty sure I like him more than just friends. And I don't know what to do about it."

Mamoru felt himself frowning, a strange flare of jealousy exploding in the pit of his stomach. "Have you told this guy how you feel?"

She shook her head. "No. I… I don't know. I don't think I should. I don't want to ruin our...friendship." She said that last word, friendship, as though it was an unfamiliar word. Usagi had plenty of friends. What made this particular friend so different?

Mamoru didn't like this at all. No one was allowed to make Usagi feel this way. She deserved so much better. She deserves the best.

Mamoru leaned his elbows on his knees, mimicking Usagi's position, and stared down at the space between his feet. "Usagi," he swallowed hard, a lump forming in his throat, "whoever this...friend... is," he paused, "he is the luckiest man on the fucking planet." He saw her turn her head to look at him, but he didn't look back, keeping his eyes glued to the grass beneath his feet. "You're amazing and beautiful and... perfect. He will be ecstatic to have you as his girlfriend. You should…" he swallowed again before finally looking into her wide eyes. "You should definitely tell him.

A smile curled onto her beautiful, heart-shaped face, and she bit the corner of her bottom lip. "Thank you, Mamoru. I think maybe I'll tell him...soon." She stood, straightening her skirt. He stood, too.

She turned to him completely, taking a step closer. His breath caught in his throat, heart pounding in his chest so hard he was sure she could hear it. She smiled gently, grasped his jacket, and pulled him closer. Pushing herself up on her toes, she pressed her lips to his cheek in a long kiss.

He couldn't breathe. He couldn't think. She surrounded him; her scent, her hair, her essence encased him. Her lips stayed pressed to his cheek for longer than they should have, and he felt his whole body heat up from his toes to the tips of his ears, his face flushing a deep crimson.

She pulled away slowly, a small smile playing on her plump, kissable lips. "Talk to you later...Mamo-chan," she cooed sweetly before turning on her heels and skipping away.

He stood there, stark still, staring after her as she bounced away, his eyes widened, and he exhaled in sharp raspy puffs of air. He touched his cheek with the tips of his fingers as realization washed over him.

"Shit," he muttered.

He was in love with Usagi.

oOo

Usagi skipped away, giggling to herself. She couldn't believe it. She'd just kissed Mamoru Chiba on the cheek. What in the world was she thinking?

She couldn't help it, though. What he'd said had made her believe that maybe she could tell him. Maybe she could let him know that she'd loved him since the day she'd met him but hadn't realized it until last week when she'd started dreaming of him every night.

With renewed confidence, she skipped to her house, ready to make a plan to tell Mamoru-baka just how much she loved him.

End

Did I do the picture justice? I hope so! Please let me know what you think! I'm already outlining the next picfic I'm going to do, with an image given to me by a favorite artist of many of us. You'll see when it comes out. 😉 Until next time!

Reviews are love!