Title: Remembrance

Author: Lisa

Chapter: 3

Rating: PG

Author's Notes:

Here is Chapter 3! Please let me know your thoughts at the end, and happy Thanksgiving!

Disclaimer: Sailor Moon and the others don't belong to me, but this story does.

I spent the better part of the night transfixed by the changing numbers on my alarm clock. The minutes ticked into hours, relentless in their countdown toward another inevitable sunrise. As the first rays of light threatened to seep through my closed blinds, I groaned and threw my blanket over my head in frustration. The truth was this: ever since Usagi had nearly broken my doorbell in her haste to see someone who was decidedly not me, I hadn't been able to sleep a wink. Who needed a dream angel when the real one had magically re-appeared at my doorstep, brighter, more captivating, and more unobtainable than ever?

Fate was playing a cruel joke on me, I had decided sometime between three or four in the morning. How many times had I fantasized that Usagi would return one day? How many times had I replayed our subsequent conversation in my head, tweaking a word here and an expression there until I had finally it…the perfect reunion. And appeared she did – the only catch was that our fairy-tale reunion had now been relegated into a forced introduction. Silly me. I had been fate's puppet for so long. Why had I thought I could break free from its strings?

Minako was wrong. I wasn't running away from happiness because that happiness could never exist now, not for me. The fact was that I could not be happy knowing what I knew and knowing what she didn't. It was deception, pure and simple, like being privy to a secret that the other person didn't even know existed, but one that, for better or for worse, would color all our future interactions. I would forever see Usagi through the lens of my eight year old self, and that wasn't the least bit fair to her. She didn't need to unknowingly shoulder the burden of being my lifeline.

The December wind gleefully nipped at my cheeks and fingers as I slowly walked down the sidewalk, halfheartedly gazing into the small stores lining the street while narrowly avoiding collision with various passersby, their arms full with the fruits of their holiday shopping spree. Somewhere in the midst of my Usagi-induced daze, I had realized that tomorrow was in fact New Year's Eve, and I had not one but two social engagements to attend no thanks to Motoki. Although I still maintained that I had never formally accepted Minako's invitation.

A quick inspection of the contents of my cupboard had confirmed that I had nothing presentable to bring to either event, which had prompted my unwilling foray into the busy streets of Tokyo. A nice fruit basket should do for Motoki's mother, I mused with a silent nod. She had always been partial to those edible assortments based on previous experience (I was the first to admit I hadn't a creative bone in my body when it came to gift giving). But Minako's party was another story….maybe it wasn't too late to cancel…

"Mamoru-san?" I started with surprise at the familiar voice and almost knocked the unsuspecting blond over with the speed by which I turned to face her.

"Usagi," I barely managed to choke out as my fight or flight response kicked in with full force. I felt the adrenaline spiral through my body like liquid fire, ramping my heart into overdrive and shooting into my legs until I could barely feel them. "What – what are you doing here?"

I cringed as soon as the words came out. Of course she had every right to be shopping there as I had (even more so, I'd venture, given my distaste for any kind of holiday cheer). The better question was perhaps why fate now had nothing better to do than throwing us together. I had spent ten long years looking past my shoulder and desperately wishing that the next petite blond I saw would be her; now, however, she appeared without warning, as if taunting me with the futility of my once-fervent hopes.

"Just doing a bit of window shopping," she replied lightly. She was clothed in a light pink puffy jacket and thick grey tights that hugged every inch of her slender legs. Her odangos were unfortunately covered by a fur-lined hood, but a few strands of hair had fallen free from her admittedly unconventional (though fully adorable) hairstyle and framed her small face. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes made all the more vibrant by their slight glassiness from the cold. She was, in a single word, perfect.

"Ah." My reply was likely in contention for the lamest response in history, but I was too panicked at that point to formulate a more coherent answer.

"What brings you out in this weather?" She graced me with a smile, and I felt my throat constrict painfully. "I don't suppose you're window shopping too? Something strikes me as you not being that type." Another blinding smile was burned into my memory. This time, I returned the gesture weakly.

"I was looking for gifts to bring my hostesses tomorrow," I supplied hesitantly and stuffed my hands into my pockets, suddenly embarrassed. "For Motoki's mom and Minako, I mean," I supplemented quickly and darted a cautious glance her way.

"Oh! What did you have in mind?"

"I—" Five minutes alone with her—never mind the streams of people that were filing past us—and I had all but lost my ability to speak. This certainly didn't bode well.

"Would you like some company? I can help you pick out something for Minako's party at least."

"I wouldn't want to be a bother…" I trailed off pathetically.

"Who said anything about being a bother? I'm the one who's being shameless." Her tone was decidedly light, yet something about the way her cheeks flushed even redder caused my poor heart to do even more gymnastics. If she actually wanted to spend time with me, then who was I to stop that? I never claimed to be anything but selfish.

"Let's go in here then." I pointed to a nearby shop with several promising fruit baskets and floral arrangements on display in the front window. We shared a mutual sigh of satisfaction from the welcoming warmth of the shop coupled with the smell of cinnamon and fresh flowers. Usagi lowered her hood and gave her head a small shake, and I fought the almost overpowering urge to tuck away the rogue stands of hair that rested on both sides of her face. Not fully trusting my self-control at this point, I put a few strides' worth of distance between us (sadly as much as the small store could offer) and tried to focus on picking an appropriate gift basket from the formidable selection before me.

No easy feat given the distraction mere feet away, whose attention was currently held by the rose section. I swallowed the lump that formed in my throat and turned away, willing myself to complete the task that I had left the safety of my apartment for. I cringed at the various bows and frills that were draped over each piece, feeling my distaste for the holidays bubble up to the surface with fresh vigor, and grabbed the least gaudy-looking basket.

Usagi was bent over a large bouquet of red roses, her nose nearly touching one of the full blooms as she inhaled its heady scent. Her eyes were closed, the barest of smiles lifting the corners of her mouth almost imperceptibly. I stood transfixed by the sight, not daring to move in fear of shattering scene before me.

"Mamoru-san, come here and look at these roses!" I obeyed—what other choice had I—and soon joined her in admiring the sea of crimson petals.

"Amazing, aren't they?" she breathed, and I drew in a breath in an attempt to get rid of the sudden fuzziness in my brain.

"Hai, amazing." I wasn't talking about the roses, but she didn't need to know that. "I'm surprised they're able to get a hold of these in the winter."

Usagi sighed happily. "Red roses have always been my favorite, ever since I was a child." I froze instantly at the mention of her childhood as the image of my tiny angel, her hand outstretched as she proudly presented me with that single red rose, pummeled my frazzled nerves and drained the blood from my face. "They've always…calmed me, if that makes any sense. Not sure why really…" She traced the outline of a silk petal wistfully before raising her eyes to mine. "Mamoru-san, are you…you look…"

"I'm fine," I said more forcefully than I had intended and immediately regretted as I saw her flinch. I shot her an apologetic glance. "Just tired. With the holidays and all…" She nodded slowly, as if searching for some hidden meaning buried in my words.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" She pointed to the basket that I had almost forgotten I was still holding onto.

"Wait for me here? I just need to pay." Again that same slow nod. I walked swiftly toward the counter and paid as quickly as humanly possible. When I returned, Usagi's eyes had a faraway look that frightened me.

"Usagi…" I dared to touch her shoulder, which thankfully broke through her daze. "Shall we go? You still need to help me pick out something for Minako." I offered her a small smile that fell flat when I saw she wasn't even looking my way.

"H-Hai, let's go," she replied. Was it my imagination, or did her voice crack slightly?

We walked in silence while I replayed the last half hour of our interaction in my head, agonizing over what I might have said or done to offend her. Was it the way I had spoken to her? Or had she seen something in my eyes that troubled her, had she perhaps glimpsed the darkness and desperation that was always simmering beneath the surface?

"Mamoru-san," she started, and I stopped dead in my tracks. "I don't mean to pry, but…"

"Go on," I said in my most encouraging voice, still scrambling to regain the ease of our former interaction, "whatever you want to ask, I'm sure I won't mind."

Usagi bit her lip, completely unaware of the maddening effect it had on me and the last reins of my self-control. Her eyes darted this way and that, silently assessing our rather public location in the middle of the sidewalk. We were beginning to draw curious glances from passersby.

"Come with me."

Before I knew it, she had dragged me into an abandoned alleyway. Usagi never ceased to surprise me. She leaned again the wall, clearly struggling to voice what was bothering her. Whatever she wanted to ask, I could sense I wouldn't like it. But it was too late now.

"Why are you having dinner with Motoki's family rather than…rather than…"

"Rather than with my own, you mean?"

"Gomen," she apologized immediately, "that's horribly nosy and rude of me. Of course, you don't have to answer, I mean, why would you? You hardly know me..."

I put a finger to her lips before she continued in her guilty rambling. "Usagi. I told you I didn't mind, didn't I?" I exhaled a breath that I hadn't realized I'd been holding.

Once upon a time, I had sought to protect a five-year-old Usagi from the truth because I hadn't trusted her strong enough to handle it. She had appeared so innocent back then as she beseeched me with those sky-blue eyes. Those same blue eyes, as clear as a cloudless summer day, now pierced themselves into my very core as I came face to face with the same dilemma. I wasn't about to make the same mistake twice.

"My family isn't here anymore, Usagi."

She fumbled with my words. "You mean, they aren't here in Japan, or…" She couldn't even bring herself to voice the second option, but the implication was clear.

"The latter, I'm afraid," I managed to say. Whatever her reaction would be, whatever I did next, I had to maintain composure. I couldn't break down, not here, not now. "So there you have it."

"Mamoru-san…"

"It was a long time ago," I supplied quickly, as if that somehow made everything better. What did people say—that time heals all wounds? They conveniently forget to mention the scars that are left behind, which never disappear no matter how much they fade.

I didn't see Usagi move, but her arms were around me suddenly, desperately gripping my torso with surprising force. She next buried her face into my coat, right above my heart, and I swore she could hear those traitorous beats that revealed just how much she moved me.

"Arigato, Mamoru-san," she murmured into my chest, "for sharing that with me." She pulled away to face me, and I touched the wetness on her cheeks with trembling fingers. "But you must know, surely you must, that you're not alone."

I couldn't remember the last time I had even come close to crying. Yet in that drafty alleyway, staring into those glassy orbs, I could feel the first pricks of hot tears in the corner of my eyes. I blinked them away and laughed shakily. She was my angel and she wasn't at the same time—how was I ever to make sense of that?

"Someone else told me that," I offered ruefully, "someone I used to know…a lifetime ago…"

"Well that someone was pretty smart, I'd say."

I chuckled at the irony. "Hai, I'd say she was."

"In all seriousness though…if you ever need someone to talk to, you have me." She smiled warmly, and I blessed the two small dimples on her cheeks. "Always."

Always, always, always.

"I'll remember that."

The problem was that I had always remembered her promise. She had not. Yet the line between then and now was quickly crumbling before me, and I hadn't the energy or desire to stop it.

I'm thinking there will be two more chapters and a short epilogue – bear with me, the end is in sight! :) Please let me know what you think!

This story was written and posted November 2015.