A/N: This is yet another story that I have finished on my word document. It's not perfect, but it's finished! I revised it, but there will be a few mistakes.I hope you have you guys let me know whenever you find even one!

Thanks:

LauraDrazen: Well, she's sick with something, that's for sure. Enjoy the second chapter!

jessicam242: Here ya go!

Amydali86: (chuckles) I'll try to keep it good throughout the story. The ending is my absolute favorite! There are seven chapters Plus Epilogue.

bunnykim89: I will update as much as I possibly am able to.

SailorMoonForever: ^-^ Thank-you! It didn't exactly take a month like I planned. Once I got the story going, it took me three days only to finish. I seem to be able to write once the introductions and the other boring stuff are over and done with! Thanks for your review.

Credits: I DO NOT OWN SAILOR MOON! But the story is all a creation of my mind!

Summery: Tsukino Usagi, already facing a brutal life of an orphanage, now has to help Chiba Mamoru with his hate for life by attempting to be his friend and helping him see the wonders of love. All this proves to harden when she is a targeted with a sickness she would not reveal to anyone but the doctors. With her life-line reducing dramatically, how can she keep the promise she made to her new friend and herself when death could just as well be around the corner?

To Teach Him To Love

Chapter 2

I awoke from my deep slumber about nothing in particular, somehow a bit happier than any other day. It was odd, feeling this happy. Happiness was something I seldom experienced.

I took a moment to just sit there and let my body awaken, then bounced out of my bed and went to get dressed.

Today, I chose some shorts and a button-up blue T-shirt. I left my hair down, and put on some blue flip-flops.

As I skipped down the stairs taking two at a time, I wondered to myself if Mamoru would be able to find the dining room – where we ate. I thought about going up to ask him if he needed help finding his way, but then I realized that he may be asleep.

Well, you can imagine my surprise when I came down and saw him sitting in the chair I usually sit in this early…

So I'm not going to be the only one getting up early and avoiding the other kids anymore, eh?

"Good morning." I murmured, sitting down in front of him. He picked up his plate, with a few left-over egg chunks, and left the room grumbling a 'thank-you' to Irene.

"Good morning, Usagi."

I smiled at Mr. and Mrs. Wayne who came to join me for breakfast like always. Mr. Wayne wore his business suit looking as dashing as ever, so I'm guessing that some kid was getting adopted today, and Mrs. Wayne had taken some extra time to put a red bow into her dark hair and added some make-up to her pale face. She looked… exceptionally beautiful today.

"What's eating Mamoru?" I asked quietly. I knew that they could hear me. Unlike most people, they had taken the time to get to know me, and I think that my muteness has actually helped their hearing instead of reducing it. That, or they read my lips.

"He's just grumpy. Usagi, I'm proud of you. Thank you so much for talking to him. He was so much lighter hearted than yesterday."

I nodded at Mrs. Wayne.

She put a plate of eggs in front of me. I took my fork and dug in. Mr. and Mrs. Wayne started talking about mindless things like grocery shopping and doing the laundry. I sat peacefully to myself, content with my own company, like always. I savored every piece of egg that found its way into my mouth, and then I drank some of the orange juice. I grabbed an apple and muttered a thank-you as I left, making it out just before the other kids piled into the room.

--

Today was the kind of day when the little kids in this orphanage went outside to play tag, hide and seek, hop scotch, and other silly little games that amused them. It was a fairly good day, not too hot, the wind from the south blowing in a not-so-chilly and more like a relaxing way. I had not gone outside, but went to read a book up in my room instead.

It was later on today when I decided to join the kids outside, not able to resist the sun that would fall onto my skin. Everyone once again stared at me when I came out, and a few older boys playing basketball had gawked at me, but this time I did not pay as much attention to them as I did yesterday. I sat down on the swing and looked across the playground.

Everyone was playing with at least two other people, or they were in a group sitting on the grass and talking, so that is why my eyes instantly fell on Mamoru, who was just leaning against a tree, his eyes closed. He had worn some jeans and a sweater. I found myself wondering how he didn't feel warm at all wearing that.

I frowned and got up, walking over to him. I stopped, though, when I felt a sudden pain in my chest. It pricked at me like a thousand sharp needles. Gasping in surprise, I fell to my knees as they turned to jell-o. The needles didn't stop. Instead, they grew, going up to my throat. My hands flew to my throat. I clenched my teeth. I could already feel it passing, though it still tortured me.

I sat there for a few more minutes, cringing in my own misery. It took a few moments, but it passed slowly. When it lifted, I felt a tremendous relief. It had been like putting your hand to the stove or onto the sun and not being able to take it away afterwards. I really felt the need to take a nice, cold drink at the moment, but I knew that I still wanted to talk to Mamoru.

Breathing heavily, I looked up at him. He was looking at me, a cold glare fixed on his face. I could see that I wouldn't be able to say anything to him. And I was certainly surprised… It had gone so well yesterday. What had caused such a change? Maybe he wasn't in his right mind last night…

I got up, and then pushed my legs to run past him into the house. I ran up the stairs, past a surprised Mrs. Wayne and a woman holding some documents, and into my room, shutting the door with a loud BANG behind me, and slid down to the ground.

I had really believed we had gotten some progress… I guess I really was desperate for friends. After all, if I wasn't, this would not have been so painful to my heart.

--

My day had not gone so well after that. I just sat in my room, looking out into the driveway. I had taken out my diary – yes, I keep one of those. Irene gave it to me because I had refused to express my feelings – and wrote down what had happened yesterday and today. Then I expressed my curiosity about what had happened when I was walking toward Mamoru. I put the diary on my bed and went to sit down on the wooden box, continuing with my thoughts of wonder.

It took me a while to notice it had darkened outside. I sat on my box for a few more minutes, finally putting off my pain as something that happens to everyone.

I got dressed into my night gown and was about to climb into bed when I suddenly glanced at my diary, which I had never put away. I grabbed it and made a quick decision to say good night to Mamoru, for God knows why.

I went to his room first, guessing he might be in there. When I turned the corner, I was hit with a sudden feeling of the nerves. Standing there, I tried desperately to calm myself down. 'I'm just saying goodnight' I thought. 'It's just a nice gesture to a fellow human. Nothing to worry about, Usagi, so calm down…'

I took a deep breath through my mouth, then released it, and reached the door knob, turning it slowly. The door opened, and I stepped in. It was dark in here – a lot darker than I had expected it to be. At first, I thought no one was in the room, but then I heard a soft choke.

My eyes widened, and I closed the door behind me. I let my eyes adjust to the dark, and once they had, I looked around. Mamoru was on his bed, his head in his knees. His shoulders shook roughly, and his right hand held the picture from yesterday.

I gasped, shocked. He was… crying? I crossed the room, and settled down on his bed. I put my diary on the other side of me, and reached out to wrap my arms around him.

"Mamoru, what's wrong?"

He didn't reply.

"Are you alright?"

No reply.

"Mamoru…?"

I could hear his hiccups from the tears.

"Oh, Mamoru… It's alright…" I put my arms around him. "Shh… It's alright."

Suddenly, he sat up. I moved away to give him room to stretch.

He leaned back, wiping the tears with his hand.

"You think I'm a cry baby," he said, sounding convinced.

"No, I don't," I replied.

"Yes, you do! I'm a mess…"

"I was a mess when I came here, too. Everyone was."

The room fell quiet.

"Not as much as me," he finally replied, breaking the silence after a little while.

"Want to bet?" I asked. "I've had this diary ever since I was seven. That's when I realized I was in the orphanage and why I was here."

He didn't reply.

"Look…" I opened my diary to the first page where a bunch of big letters were scrawled messily onto the page. "December 5th, 2000. I cannot believe it," I read, "My mom doesn't like me… Gosh… am I stupid or what?"

I heard him chuckle. "You're reading me your diary?"

I shrugged. "Why not?"

"Aren't you embarrassed?"

"Why should I be? This is what I felt when I was seven. I shouldn't feel embarrassed because of something that I once thought."

"You're such an oddling," he whispered. "I hurt you with my words; you come to tell me it's alright. I glare at you when you're in pain; you come to comfort me."

I sighed, "Oh… How bad did that one look?"

"Huh?"

"When I was in pain, how bad did I look?"

"You're worried about how you looked? Well… in pain…"

"I know that!" I snapped. "I mean… did I look like a monster or…? Why were you glaring?"

He sighed. "Why are you even in here?"

"You didn't answer my question."

"Neither did you."

"I asked first."

"So?"

"What do you mean, 'So'?"

"I mean that I don't care."

"You are so-"

"What? Naive? I think that's you, not me."

I growled. This wasn't leading us anywhere at all.

"I'm in here to wish you a good night."

"Good night."

"Good night."

Pause…

"Aren't you going to leave?"

"No, I am not."

"This is my room!"

"Technically, it's been five other kids' room, too, so…"

"This is ridiculous! How would you feel if someone came into your room and didn't leave while you were having an emotional crisis?"

"That already happens. Kids like to make fun of me."

"Then push them out!"

"I can't!"

"Why can't you?!"

I sighed. I could see we wouldn't be able to go through this without fighting. "I'm weak."

"That's no way to speak of your self. You should be ashamed!"

"But that's not what I mean… I mean physically."

"Huh?"

"Yes, I have a weak body."

"Well, I can see that…"

"What do you mean?"

"When was the last time you looked into a mirror?"

"This morning…"

"Well, you must not have been paying attention to how fragile you look. I feel like just by touching you, I could break a bone. Your skin is practically sticking onto your bones."

"But it's not."

"You need to get some meat on you. I could use you as a skeleton example in class."

I growled, causing him to laugh. I liked his laugh… It made my heart race. Whenever I heard that sound, and not the usual bitter laugh he made, it made me all warm inside.

"I don't need any meat."

"Oh, yea, you do. How much do you weigh?"

"I weigh ninty-seven pounds."

"And how old are you?"

"I'm turning sixteen on the 30th."

"That's sick."

"Why is it?"

He laughed again, and I felt my heart flip. "Most girls your age are in the hundreds."

"They're fat…"

"Or you're skinny. Hundreds are normal, nineties aren't. Do you eat at all?"

"I do…"

"What did you have for dinner?"

"I had nothing."

"What did you have for Lunch?"

"I didn't have anything for Lunch."

"What about breakfast?"

"Eggs…"

"That's it?"

"And orange juice, and an apple!"

"Dang… You really do need to eat more. Aren't you hungry?"

"No, I am not hungry."

"Well, you don't get enough nutrients into your body. Maybe that's why you're weak?"

"I doubt it."

"I don't."

I giggled. "This is silly. I think I weigh enough."

"When was the last time you checked how much you weigh?"

"Um… I think a week ago."

"Did you lose any pounds?"

"I think I lost four…"

"Oh my…"

"What?!"

"What you're doing really isn't healthy…"

"Why do people keep telling me that?"

"Because we're not the ones trying to kill ourselves by starving."

"But I'm not starving!"

"That's what they all say."

I spent the rest of the night talking to him about these silly things, afraid to leave him. I did not want him to cry, nor did I want his kind nature to turn its back on me again and put on that cold façade.

TBC

A/N: Please review!