oOo
Garden of Eden: Heartstrings
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Summary:
She was beautiful, in a haunting sort of way. And he couldn't seem to keep away from her despite his well known aversion towards the fairer of sexes because somehow, she made it okay to be curious. Though she was strangely tragic, there was a daring spirit inside that was reckless to the point where he might have called it suicidal. He knew it, because he could relate to that whimsical edge.
()()()
uncertainty lies at every turn
Chapter 5
first hurdles
"What the hell was that?" Minako screeched in her ear and Mamoru couldn't stop the wince that escaped onto his visage out of sympathy for Usagi's ears.
If he had heard it from nearly three feet away, he could only wonder how Usagi's hearing was fairing standing not but a few inches away from her cousin. He had to admit, it was a bit amusing watching Minako make wild gestures with her arms and foolish expressions with her face. He didn't understand why Minako was so ruffled with Usagi when they had won the first game of the period and would probably keep winning for the rest of class.
But then again if memory served right, Minako was rather intimidating when competitive. But she was worse when she was worried, so maybe it made sense for her to be rambling nonsense right now. She was more than a little aghast about Usagi's little show of brutality. Mamoru barely knew Usagi and yet, he wasn't even surprised Usagi had kicked the ball at Yukina. It wasn't like she didn't have it coming to her anyway but really, he wasn't surprised at that—more like he was shocked Usagi could even play at all. Because that was really fucking good aim she had.
Maybe he shouldn't have been surprised though. She certainly had the figure for sports. And the power spoke for itself—she looked pissed off.
"Usagi-chan, is something wrong? What happened out there?"
Usagi calmly ignored Minako's ranting and grabbed her cousin's water bottle from her that she had begun to irritably fidget with. She pulled the cap open with her teeth before squirting a generous amount of water into her mouth. The water was cool as it slid down her throat and she felt mildly revitalized. Usagi futilely blew her fringe out of her face in exasperation when her cousin's prattling ceased to continue.
Strangely, Mamoru watched, vaguely fascinated with the myriad of emotions being shown on Usagi's normally placid features.
He was not the only one watching.
"Look, Minako. I don't see the big deal. It was just a game." Usagi gave a monotonous shrug.
For some reason, the action made her appear regal.
"A game?" Makoto reiterated. "If it was just a game, then why did you kick that ball so damn hard? I mean, it was a pretty damn good kick, but were you trying to kill Moriyama?"
"Moriyama?" Usagi muttered blandly, almost distractedly. "Is that her name?"
Mamoru chuckled to himself. Leave it to Usagi to be so unperturbed.
"God, Usagi. You could've seriously hurt Moriyama-san."
Minako tried to get her cousin to see the point.
Did it ever occur to you that maybe she deserved it? It was on the tip of her tongue. Somehow though, amidst the varied stares of Makoto's somewhat impressed hazel green and Minako's disapproving azure eyes, Usagi didn't think her cousin would appreciate the sarcastic quality her wit possessed. She might very well just receive another lecture for her sadistic humor.
"Sorry."
Yet just like before, she didn't look sorry.
Minako scowled. "Don't apologize if you don't mean it."
Usagi grinned dastardly. "Fine, I won't. But don't tell me you actually like this...Moriyama-san?"
Usagi was well aware of Yukina's reputation in the school. They very rarely had run-ins and Usagi hadn't received the negative effect of her motor-mouth until today but had long since decided that she disliked the girl. She was much too materialistic and was always tearing other people down for her own amusement. Usagi would've been content for the two of them never to cross paths but the moment Moriyama Yukina had spoken so lowly of her today it had made her snap just a little. She'd been dealing with the interest in her background for long enough and the school gossip had crossed the line.
If she could, Usagi would've kicked the ball into her again. Except harder. And possibly in a different area.
Perhaps her face, which she seemed to treasure so much? Usagi mused darkly. Maybe I'm enjoying this too much, but I can scold myself later if I still don't feel bad.
Minako remained silent, her lips twitching. At her cold shoulder Usagi felt cynical amusement. Maybe she shouldn't have done it. It certainly felt good to unleash the pent up anger, but she'd unintentionally alienated Minako from her a little. Usagi sighed. She was trying to be closer to her, not drive her away.
"There's no pleasing you, is there?"
Usagi poked Minako in a childish gesture strangely reminiscent of when they were younger. Minako attempted to keep her glare in place only to sigh in defeat however, when Usagi slung an affectionate arm across the back of her shoulders. It wasn't under favourable circumstances but the physical contact relieved her somewhat.
Lately, Usagi seemed to flinch away from human contact whereas before, she used to thrive upon it. There were so many changes to Usagi and Minako didn't approve of what Usagi had done—even though no, she did not like Yukina and it sort of was pretty funny seeing her crumple the way she did, like it was karma that had been a long time coming—but when Usagi acted in a way that reminded of Minako of the good old days from before where Usagi was so much cheerier, the elder of the two blondes couldn't help but let her get away with her devilish antics even though she would scold anyone else for it.
She'd let it go this time, but try for a bit of a guilt trip. Usagi had always hated those, she knew. She'd rather people yell at her rather than expressing disappointment in her. Disappointment had always been the trigger to Usagi's guilt and she despised the gnawing sensation of guilt because it never left her alone until she not only acknowledged it, but confronted it as well.
"I just don't see how you got to be so..."
The adjective to describe Usagi's new characteristic evaded Minako though.
"Bloodthirsty? Cold? Cruel?" Usagi suggested supposedly helpfully. Her eyes never left the field where the other girls now played in their stead. "Or how 'bout sadistic?"
Minako's eyes bulged aghastly. She seemed to accept the traits like it was normal to be described so distastefully.
"How can you be so unashamed of what you did?"
Usagi yawned.
"It becomes second nature after a while."
The reply was frustratingly cryptic in that tone Usagi had whenever she seemed to refer to events that occurred to her in the past. But then Usagi turned serious eyes on her and Minako felt like the arm she had wrapped around her own shoulders no longer felt nostalgically comforting but instead, seemed to grow heavier like a burden too large for her to handle.
When had her eyes become so unfathomably deep?
"Trust me. Yukina-chan had it coming."
The breech of traditional decorum did not go unnoticed, nor did the tone with which Usagi spoke of it. Minako had never thought to link the words or distinct characteristics of something foreboding and wrathful to Usagi before. Yet they were strangely fitting for her at this moment, with her eyes so dark and her face so impossibly blank to Minako's observation.
It was eerily unnerving.
Meanwhile, Mamoru narrowed his eyes in thought as the conversation between the cousins ended and their team was called once more to play again.
He had no doubt that by the end of gym class, it would be their team that would go on to win the elimination contest. In the end, he was right.
"Still sure you're not attracted to her, Mamoru?"
"Shut up, Jin."
--
Usagi sighed as she opened her locker, throwing away yet another handful of little notes from her peers. They were steadily growing more vicious.
Just leave. Nobody wants you here. Loser.
You'll pay for what you did to Moriyama-san.
Stay away from Mamoru-kun!—
She crushed the flimsy paper notes in her right palm and shut her locker after getting her needed books for her next class. It shut with a resounding clang, that seemed to echo in her ears. Ignoring it, she turned to throw the now crumpled notes into the closest garbage can.
"Congratulations." After two days he finally managed to say it to her face.
Usagi's eyes turned to the voice of the owner. For a moment, she felt a wave of incredulity rise within her as the sincere praise failed to match up with the content of the notes in her hand. Were they congratulating her on her steadily growing pile of hate mail?! The absurdity almost rendered her outraged and the crinkled slips of paper nearly slipped from her nerveless fingers before she realized who was speaking to her. Instead, she shoved them into the corner of her textbook.
Then, she wondered why she was not surprised to see Chiba Mamoru standing behind her and through the throng of students between them. Had her hearing gotten better, or was everyone just talking louder? The dreaded whispering began and Usagi had to wonder whether Mamoru truly exercised common sense and appreciated the definition for said sense, or simply thrived on the gossip surrounding his persona. Strange, she hadn't realized he had a fetish for attention. She would've figured people wouldn't like others poking into their business, yet there were some idiots that made people curious on purpose.
It didn't make sense to her. But she wasn't one to get involved with other people and their unorthodox habits.
Still, Usagi maintained that he could have at least saved her the scorn but he just had to approach her as they went along with the crowd. It irked her that he approached her out in the open, where people could see. The glares intensified. Her patience dwindled and what little anger she had worked out from before was quickly restoring. What did it take for a person to get a break around here? She counted to ten, a suggestion Setsuna made concerning one of her moodier days. Apparently it worked wonders on people's tempers. It failed to work.
What was it with her and her fucking advice that never seemed to work?!
"I should've called bullshit on her ass," she muttered under her breath.
Mamoru raised a brow as he wiped the nonexistent lint from his blazer.
"Pardon?"
She had said that out loud? Usagi frowned, shaking her head.
"Nothing. Why are you talking to me?"
There was no time for pleasantries.
Mamoru shrugged. "Just to wish you congratulations."
"For what?" She humored him for the first supposedly friendly conversation she'd had with someone other than Minako.
"For your winning streak the other day."
Her team had went on to dominate the elimination contest. Exactly like he said it would.
She spared him a glance. The black, grey and maroon school uniform flattered the broad lines of his shoulders and tapering waist, the maroon contrasting with the bronzed tone of his skin. His hair was tousled from the breeze and he ran a distracted hand through it. He seemed to do that a lot. If Usagi were to look at him, really look at him...she could almost say he was exotic. High cheekbones, strong jaw, dark skin and hair—she looked away. She seemed to be paying too much attention to him.
Mamoru got the feeling she was gauging his sincerity. Usagi simply wondered why she was even bothering with him.
"I didn't take you to be the kind for bullshit." It was natural she feel skeptical. He tried to reassure her.
"I'm not."
"Then why congratulate me? Shocked that I can do something other than be unapproachable?"
She was either very perceptive, or that was a lucky guess. How did she manage to hit the proverbial nail on the head?
Usagi didn't like the smirk on his face. Mamoru shook his head. "You must not get complimented very often."
It was an offhand comment, seemingly meant to be teasing.
You have no idea. Usagi scoffed, remembering her experience with the revelation of Azabu's social ladder over the last few days. The irony was not lost on Usagi, who had been introduced into the school with people vying for her friendship and not but a month and a few days later, she was scorned and pushed to the corner like the latest fad. It was sickening to say the least, that they would treat people the way they treated their clothes or new shoes.
"Not lately."
"Interesting."
Was that the best he could come up with?
"Shut up." She rolled her eyes instead. "You're attracting attention."
"Is that bad?"
"Yes."
"Well, that's what you are—interesting."
She rolled her eyes. "Is there a point to all this? You make me sound like a test subject."
Mamoru quirked a tiny smile in observance. "You seem different today."
"And how would you know what's the norm for me?"
"Touché." He admitted, his velvet voice wrapping it's tendrils around her. Usagi thought the feeling was odd. "But you seem different—more...alive and open."
For his reward she gave him a deadpan stare, choosing to ignore the last adjective he chose to describe her with. Was he insinuating that she actually wanted to be talking to him? She most certainly did not. She could care less either way. She was just bored, and it was only fleeting words. It wasn't a big deal.
"Yes, I'm aware that my heart is still beating."
Ugh. Why did she say 'heart'? It sounded so...corny even though the context it was used in was meant for sardonic humor.
"That's what I mean. You're angrier today, more outspoken. You nearly broke Moriyama's ribs."
"Did I?"
It was a breezy question—the kind where you didn't care if the answer was good or not. Mamoru wondered why he felt unconventionally endeared to her for her indifference. Most girls who did that irked him to no end with their bitchy act yet Usagi pulled it off with some sort of intangible quality he couldn't quite grasp, leaving him wondering about it. He glanced at her. Her face was carefully devoid of expression.
"You kick pretty fucking hard." Mamoru shrugged carelessly. At this point, he couldn't be bothered to see whether she felt guilty or not.
Usagi smirked—like she didn't know that already.
'I hate you.'
His pale eyes turned glassy with pain as he keeled over. He wheezed through the pain.
'You weren't saying that last night.'
'Bastard.'
Mamoru paused, what was that look in her eye? It suddenly looked dazed, almost vacant. As though she were remembering something. She seemed to do that often, considering it was the same look on her face the day they had their first real interaction together on the roof.
"Usa—Tsukino, you okay?" Phew, that was close.
"Hm?" Usagi muttered in distraction before gracing him with a look. "Oh well, one less fangirl to deal with, right?"
"It's not that bad...I know how to deal with them."
"Really?"
He crossed his arms at the tone of skeptical disbelief. Was she in some way or form twistedly, questioning his masculinity?
"Yeah. Besides, you're not the type to lash out for no reason."
She sensed her personal space being breeched. "Maybe, maybe not."
She continued to walk again after both had turned to face each other. Mamoru rolled his eyes, wondering how she got so skillfully evasive. As much as he valued his innate talent for sarcasm, he would rather like that trait for her and cryptic comments. He felt irritated but ignored it, only taking a few quick strides before he was by Usagi's side again. The tardy bell rang, a shril tone that echoed throughout the building. Startled, Usagi looked at the clock she passed by and realized that much to her chagrin, she had unwittingly allowed Mamoru to lead her to the staircase going up to the school roof. She grimaced in displeasure, pausing mid-step.
Mamoru opened the door to the roof and Usagi squinted at the sunlight the outdid the luminosity of the staircase's fluorescent lights. He waited for her.
"Are you coming or what?"
Why not? Usagi nodded, jogging the rest of the steps to Mamoru's side. The door shut behind them silently, it's sound muffled by the hinge as they stood in the open fall hair again. Unlike the other two times they had been here together, the leaves did not streak against the sky in a show of colour, but merely shifted lightly each time a squirrel or another animal moved up the branches of the numerous trees surrounding the campus. They were quiet for the first ten minutes, breathing in the clean air comfortably.
This time—or maybe again, since wasn't it her who always broke the silence?—Usagi broke the silence. Maybe he would be the first to speak the next time they hung out. But then again, the third time's charm already wore off.
"So...why are you talking to me, Chiba?"
Mamoru raised a brow, before dropping his bag to the ground. He didn't answer at first and Usagi watched as he settled against the railing reminiscent of how he found her before. Intrigued, Usagi moved closer before she was standing next to him. She turned and braced her arms to push herself up and sit on the railing to Mamoru's right. She observed his expression. There was a hint of something in his eye that she couldn't discern.
"I thought we already went through that—it was to congratulate you, remember?"
She snorted. "Bullshit."
Mamoru smirked at the way she prolonged the first syllable.
"Why is it so hard to believe that someone might actually want to be nice to you in this school full of rich dipshits who think they're all that?"
"Because said dipshits worship the ground you walk on." Usagi replied, craning her neck to look at the sky.
"Here I thought you might actually be willing to give them the benefit of the doubt." Mamoru rolled his eyes.
"Whatever. Seriously, those people you call dipshits? They're like your own personal band of loyal followers. They love you and everything you do. Why not talk to one of them instead of the school outcast who doesn't give a shit, hm?"
Mamoru shrugged, barely concealing the stormy scowl at her comment. "I didn't know you were the school outcast."
"Yeah, right."
"If it makes you feel any better, I'm the school recluse." Mamoru offered.
"Which leads me to my first point—if you're such a mysteriously hunky, lone wolf why are you talking to me?"
It was obviously verbal irony but Mamoru clamped his jaw to avoid grinning.
"You think I'm hunky?" Mamoru asked. Usagi waved her hand dismissively and he realized she must tell guys they're goodlooking all the time to not be embarrassed or ashamed of voicing her thoughts so brazenly.
"You already know you're goodlooking from all those fangirls—you don't need me to boost your ego. And another thing, I call bullshit on you being the school recluse."
She said 'shit' a lot. She said 'bullshit' a lot, too. She had to have said it at least what, five times now? And in the space of a minute?
"What the fuck? Is that your favorite word or something?" Mamoru asked dryly.
"What? You mean 'bullshit'?" Usagi blinked, feigning innocence. She tapped her chin with a finger. "Yeah, guess it is. What's yours? 'Fuck'?"
Mamoru chuckled. "So what if it is?"
"I could care less. I still say bullshit on the whole you being a recluse thing though."
Six 'bullshits' in one minute.
"You calling me a liar?"
Usagi yawned langorously. "I'm not accusing you of anything. Just spill. What is it about me that's got you so interested?"
"You're very talkative today."
"You caught me on a good day." Not.
He looked speculative for a moment and almost hesitant. It made Usagi wonder whether she wanted to know the answer or not. Would he say something to ruin the comraderie they were forming? Even though she wasn't sure she wanted his companionship, Usagi had to admit she'd rather put up with him than anyone else.
"If I tell you, will you laugh?"
Usagi raised a brow in curiosity, before her eyes glinted. "Depends."
"Fine. I think you're a bit of a cold bitch." He expected her to be insulted with his crassness but when he looked at her, she merely looked back at him expectantly as though she were waiting for an explanation. What a surprise. She'd managed to be unpredictable again. You'd think that knowing someone was unpredictable would make them predictable because they were always going to do something that surprised you but didn't.
Man...did that make any sense? He shook his head. Of course it didn't.
Usagi wondered why she would laugh at someone calling her a bitch. But then again...it sort of was funny to her.
"Your point, Chiba?"
"Guess I like that you don't kiss my ass like all those other idiots."
This time, Usagi did laugh. "Nice. So am I to believe that you tolerate having me around because I'm not some mindless ditz trying to fuck with you?"
"Is 'fuck' your second favourite word?"
Usagi gave a devilish smirk. "You have no idea."
There was a double meaning there that he didn't quite want to delve into.
"Never mind, it doesn't make any difference. And yeah, that's pretty much why."
"Aha, who would've thought you're actually decent underneath all that reasonable arrogance."
"And what's that supposed to mean?"
Usagi shrugged. "It's just that on the first day I got here and saw you sitting in Iwamori's class, I thought you'd be a little more badass."
"Are you saying I'm a goody-good?" The idea didn't sit well with him. He, Chiba Mamoru was not a goody-good.
"I guess. I mean, sure you look badass, but the way you act in class oozes academically focused." Her voice had taken on a comfortable drawl.
"I'm not goody-good."
Mamoru glared when Usagi only smirked in response. "My, aren't we defensive? Calm down, Chiba. It was just a thought. For all I know you could be on the record for stealing a car, or maybe your little academic focus is all just a ruse to lure in the next flavour of the week. I don't know, not like I care how many times you get laid."
"How many times have you gotten laid?" It slipped out, unguarded. He felt like he said the wrong thing when Usagi sighed.
More times than I can count. Usagi liked to pride herself on being honest, but didn't exactly like the topic of her sex life. She would be honest, but she wouldn't want to broadcast herself as a whore, no matter how much she didn't care what other people thought of her. So she pretended to distract herself by picking at her nails instead.
"Look, that wasn't my point. My point was that even though people shower you with praises and attention, I was just surprised your head hadn't exploded with arrogance like anyone else would've. You might even have shocked me with the fact that you're disgusted by how they worship you. Honestly though, I'm disgusted with them too. You're not that great."
Mamoru slouched. "You're terribly great at this whole friendship thing."
He felt her stiffen by his arm, turning her eyes away from him. He looked at her curiously.
Friends? She thought. Usagi swallowed, suddenly lost as to what to do. So she did the only thing she knew to do. Push him away.
"Who said I was trying to be your friend? It's just a few exchanged words, Chiba. Don't read into it. This doesn't change anything."
Surprised, Mamoru didn't say a word at first before sliding his cool gaze to meet Usagi's firmly.
"You're mistaken. I have no plans of getting attached to you, Tsukino." Mamoru assured her. "It's just that you're the only person that isn't a guy that I can share an intelligent conversation with. Naturally, I'd be curious."
Usagi relaxed, satisfied with the answer but they spent the rest of their time on the roof in silence because he was lying, and they both knew it.
Just because you don't plan on something happening, doesn't mean it won't.
--
Mamoru went home that day pensively.
He was cutting through the local park as a shortcut. It possessed a soothing atmosphere that rivalled that of the school roof. He crossed through it every day he had time, always stopping to admire the lovingly tended flowers and the poignant red roses. He wondered at how the jaded green of the stem and the vibrant scarlet of the flower's petals could look so good together when at Christmas, he found the colours nothing short of tacky when combined. Though he would never admit it, he often knew that the only reason he cut through the rose gardens was to stall and gaze down into the water before he went home to an empty apartment.
He wondered why he even bothered calling it home.
It was so...sterile.
His guardian, Yukari—affectionately dubbed Yuka—often tried to make it homier with textured furniture and numerous pictures only to fail in futility. He appreciated her effort to make him feel welcome in their currently shared home. When they first moved in, the place had been pretty barren and his guardian had taken it upon herself to redecorate. Mamoru thought it was a waste of money to try so hard to decorate the spacious apartment, but Yuka looked so pleased with her interior decorating that he didn't protest. The woman was aging after all, and Mamoru figured that she should at least be happy.
However, he was always late going home. The place held a cold air to it despite Yuka's blatant attention. He figured it had something to do with Yukari's job occupation constantly demanding her to travel, and the effort to make the place home serving to remind Mamoru of what he had lost leaving the apartment bare and unoccupied for the majority of the time.
Someone once told Mamoru that it wasn't normal to avoid the place you were supposed to call home.
He avoided it when he could. People often questioned why, always assuming that he would arrive anywhere fashionably late and leave as soon as he could due to his introverted nature. Some people thought him condescending towards them, but really...he simply enjoyed his solitary. People wondered why he rarely spoke, but really...he enjoyed the silence. He wondered though why he spoke so much around Usagi when both of them deigned words to be pointless. Why waste words when they weren't even very important?
A random thought popped into his mind and Mamoru thought that Usagi would probably understand what he was going through, understand his reasons for avoiding the sanctuary of his home. He barely knew her, but he got the feeling that she would understand what he was getting at. There was something there with her. He could see it in the awkward way she would socialize at times despite being graceful in every other aspect—she often hesitated to return Minako's affectionate smiles but even more so when it came to physical contact like hugs—Minako was a hugger, after all.
Yet, even though he could plainly see the way Minako tried so hard to get Usagi comfortable it seemed as though Usagi found herself unable to settle in. She was like the rose he was fingering. She appeared unwaveringly confident and smooth yet vulnerable in weak moments with a few rough edges. He could tell she was strong because she never missed a beat when dealing with people who tried to knock her down. But he could tell she was weak sometimes too, like today where a look of worry had crossed her eyes during the last bit of their conversation together. She was a walking contradiction, different.
Perhaps that's why Usagi had retreated to the school roof that fateful day, Mamoru thought. Maybe home with Minako wasn't really a home. She was from Kyoto after all, and from what Mamoru could remember of Kyoto people in Azabu would get beaten up if they ever went for schooling there. Maybe that was why Usagi kicked the ball so hard for every goal and why she looked to be unbothered by people's snide comments. Wherever she came from, it was every man for themself. Survival of the fittest to the extreme.
Maybe that was why she was so unreachable. Maybe she knew what it was like to feel alone in a room full of people.
Maybe...
She was just like him, wanting company but unable to ask for it.
The rose's thorn pricked his finger.
--
AN: It's late. I'll edit this tomorrow, I swear. Maybe I should get a beta or whatever...I will ponder on that thought. I just wanted to get it out though, since some of you guys left PMs letting me know of your worry. I just wanted to reassure you that I'm still here. I'll even write author notes at the end of every chapter every now and then from now on. Thanks to all those who reviewed the last few chapters, and oh to TemporaryInsane, I appreciate your support and hope your migraine goes away soon=)--'cause you know, stuff like that just plain sucks. Anyways, hope you enjoyed the chapter. Will update again soon, if English homework does not kill me first.