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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.

()()()

sometimes, that invasion of space can be exactly what you need

Chapter 6
comfort zones

It started the day after Mamoru was feeling more contemplative than what he was used to. Sure, he was an academic kind of guy, but the need to do well in school was only motivated by the desire to get out of his self-proclaimed hell hole and out into the sophisticated city. Juuban was lucky it even had a place like Azabu to raise it's prestige—which was hanging by a proverbial thread. Anyway, the point was Mamoru usually never really gave a fuck about anything but himself. So in conclusion, in reality, this whole thing he was now going through...thinking of a girl of all things—was weird. Thus, leading to a whole new level of strange regarding his association with one Tsukino Usagi.

It was weird. It was weird. It was weird.

Like he said, Mamoru didn't give a fuck about anything but himself. And even if he did care about anyone other than himself...it wasn't like he ever said or admitted it out loud.

That would've been preposterous. Course, the things he cared about were categorized by the level of importance he deemed them with. And he ranked top. Call him a narcissistic bastard, but there wasn't much to keep him from being a jackass. It was one of those things where fate fucked you over just for kicks right from the start. Call it his only open act of defiance. It wasn't that he was socially stunted...okay fine, maybe he was just a little. No one had to know that though, right? And honestly, what else was there left to put any hope on anyway? You can't just dream for shit to happen. If you wanted something done you'd have to do it yourself.

Agh, and shit.

He had a routine, damn it. It wasn't a very good one, but it was his routine. And she was messing it up. He could care less about the routine itself but he was not okay with having her invading his thoughts like she was. It wasn't right. It just wasn't right. Wrong, that's what it was.

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

Because now it was their routine. Which was...different.

See, it worked a little like this...

Every other day.

Sometimes it was Wednesday. Sometimes it was Friday. And sometimes it was the period with Iwamori-sensei or sometimes it was the period with Renji-sensei. It was always at eleven thirty-seven am.

Sharp.

It was always at the roof. His roof...or was it their roof? And it was always quiet. It was different for once, and Mamoru wasn't used to it.

It'd been so long since he had to deal with change, that he wasn't quite sure how to react...

--

But then, Usagi wasn't very pleased with the current developments either.

The truth of the matter was that it just didn't quite help that Mamoru was practically one of the only people she deemed tolerable. Or maybe he was the only one she could stand being around since she got to Azabu didn't seem to help either. She however, didn't know why she humored him and his pointless questions the way she did, why she allowed him tiny glances into her personal thoughts. She didn't know why she let him stare at her at all. But she did. She let him, and she let him get away with it, too.

She didn't understand why she kept coming back, even when telling herself she would stop doing that—that today, she would leave him alone. It is an empty promise though and deep down she knows it, but she cannot help but repeat the worn out vow to herself even when knowing that she probably might never follow through on it. It gives her a trivial kind of thrill knowing that there is still some kind of unspoken rule to break.

But she doesn't know that, because overthinking matters concerning Mamoru were overly taxing and dangerous to her sanity. Even if it was currently and apparently at a very 'fragile state'. The thought makes her frown and Usagi wonders if Setsuna's noticed the sudden mutual comraderie the two school lone wolves have found in each other. Surely she has to have, considering how she butts her head into their affairs all the time...but then again, it would be rather unrealistic of Usagi to expect the older woman to know everything. It was just hard not to think that she did.

The woman had an uncanny ability of predicting correct outcomes.

Usagi didn't like the idea of her being a psychic. It was too mystical, too much like that resembling something out of a twisted fairytale.

And Usagi hated fairytales. They'd lost their charm for her a long time ago.

The damsel in distress was an overused stereotype and there were no more dashing nights left to save them in their current world anyway. Men today were just idiots with only one thing on their minds. And any girl who couldn't take care of herself was pathetic. Just like Romeo and Juliet. People think it's so sad. A perfect tragic love story.

If it were so perfect why didn't it have the happy ending?

And besides, did anyone ever stop to think that maybe it wasn't love at all between them? Did anyone stop to think that maybe Juliet was like, what? Fourteen? God forbid, who knows how old Romeo actually the hell was. So stupid. Killing themselves like that, Usagi thought.

Tch, and the same things happened over and over in movies today. Boy meets girl. Boy and girl get to know each other. Boy and girl end up liking each other. Boy and girl can't be together because of conflicts. Conflict is resolved. Boy and girl live happily ever after.

The end.

Usagi almost wondered what happened after 'the end'...but then it struck her that the sickening plot used in nearly everything before could almost be reasoned to resemble the current acquaintance she shared with Mamoru. She doubted that she would end up liking him, but she certainly didn't want any attachments. She didn't do so well with attachments. There was a time where she might've embraced the chance at having another person in her life, but that time was over and gone with now.

Usagi sucked at caring about others now. She had, for a long time too.

She'd learned every possibly deadly sin and mastered them as perfectly as imperfection got.

She wasn't good at being with other people. Hadn't for a long time. Frankly, just the thought of it was a bad idea to her. The only exception she would probably make was Minako. And even that was treading on thin ice.

This is a bad idea.

But that doesn't stop Usagi from wondering.

What if...

--

The first thing he notices, is that she has a lot on her mind today. He doesn't want to admit that he's been learning what each of her facial expressions mean. It's really just for survival anyway because one of these days she's going to bite his head off if he doesn't learn where to step carefully. It's never stopped him before and he's always been outright with her—at least so far, but he figures he's going to need it someday if only for his personal safety rather than out of respect for her privacy.

"Hello, again."

She raises a brow at him, even though by now it's become a part of a scripted routine they've unknowingly refined to the highest degree. He's even come to expect that certain action from her. He waits for her reply and only smirks smugly when she does. Usagi counts that so far, Mamoru has shown her five different types of smirks. Each meaning a different thing.

There was one for sarcasm, one for bitterness—she doesn't see this one often and she doesn't know why, but she never bothers questioning it. Unlike Mamoru, Usagi knows that his fury can be much more frightening than her own if pissed off enough—there was another smirk he used when he was amused but didn't want to laugh. She could understand that—she had a smirk like that too. And his last two smirks, one for when he unconciously did it in deep thought and another when he looked like he was paying attention but really wasn't—she didn't experience that one often either. Usagi doesn't delve too deeply into the reasons behind that.

It would just make things complicated.

"Hey, Chiba," she says, in a careless tone, like she doesn't care if she ever sees him again.

Which is true, because she wouldn't miss him.

Thinking this makes it easier to avoid eye contact.

"Beautiful day isn't it?" It comes out of nowhere.

The tone drips with saccharine sarcasm after their traditional pause of silence and Usagi knows he meant for her to hear it. She snorts. He knows she doesn't care about the weather at all. Besides, it was cloudy and looked like it was about to rain any second. Beautiful day, her ass.

"What kind of crack are you on today?" she muses, placing her chin in the palm of her hand. She makes it sound like she genuinely wants to know, almost as though to try it out for herself. The wind blows her hair, and it's tied up tight for once in his presence. Somehow, Mamoru gets the feeling that it's supposed to be symbolic in a way that should be crucial. He dismisses it as a minor detail instead.

And then he says, "The good kind of crack."

"There's such thing as that? I thought crack was supposed to be bad for your health." She would know.

She's interested, he can tell since she humors him with her curiosity. "Care to elaborate?"

"You know, the kind of crack that makes you so high that you just don't give a fuck about anything anymore."

She purses her lips, condescendingly or disbelievingly though he can't tell. His answer is open to interpretation, and could possibly be taken as depressing or angsty.

Usagi merely takes it at face value. It was too early to be trying to sort through puzzles like what went on in his head. And anyway, she wasn't sure if she even really wanted to know.

"Ever thought maybe you might need a shrink, Chiba?"

He notices that in her distraction, she absently pulls her hair loose.

She looks much better when it's down, he thinks. Not that he'd ever say it out loud, though.

Whatever doubts they might've had are slowly forgotten. It's only a matter of time before they come back, but for now this 'no strings attached' gig was convenient enough for the both of them. Why complicate something that worked itself out fine on it's own?

--

AN: Will edit later, I swear. Shorter than my other chapters I know, but remember that I will edit this later I swear. I just had to get it out before inspiration left me again. For now, enjoy and sorry for the long wait!