Love is such a Strange and Funny thing

by Gaosheng

Lies and deciet always seem to find it's way to the surface just when everyone thought they were dead and burried. It seems the only truth Serena Tsukino and Darien Chiba can rely on is the one they fear most: love is a very strange and funny thing.

12. Chapter 12

AN: For those of you who have been in constant update of my story, I'm glad to say that my eleventh chapter is finally here. Please read it, and ejoy. Check my end notes for answers to certainquestions many of you have put to me but I have not yet answered.

Disclaimer: All rights to Sailor Moonis reserved to Naoko Takeuchi.

---

Chapter Eleven

Serena's eyes opened wide at the sight of the oncoming vehicle. Immediately her body tensed, frozen stiff with fear. Her mind screamed for her to jump, to run—to do anything to get out of the way…but she was paralyzed. Blinking back tears, her body racked with uncontrollable shivers; a painful lump formed at the base of her throat. Serena watched as the truck came ever closer—or maybe it was she who was moving…she couldn't tell.

All around her bystanders gasped with shock and horror. But none made an attempt to save her. Who would? For all they knew, she could've been a drunk who stupidly stumbled across the intersection. She was screaming and crying; it was very possible to believe that she had been drinking. They didn't know her; she was a complete stranger to them. If she were to die that hour, that minute, that very second…they'd go on with their lives just as they'd always done.

The headlights of the semi-truck blared at her and its horn roared, urging her to move. All around her everything seemed to be moving in slow motion—sound was muted to her ears. Serena's heart was beating rapidly from the adrenaline; her face turned a deathly white, perspiration gathered across her brow. She clenched her eyes shut, waiting for the hit, and she couldn't help but feel that this was a sorry way to die—even if she was poor.

And then, like sunshine peeking through clouds of grey, she heard him.

"Serena!" Darien's agonized bellow made her eyes open. "Move, you idiot! Get out of the way!"

Just when she thought her heart had stopped, it was his voice that brought her back to reality; his firm and authoritative voice now strained with emotion. Her head whirled in the direction of his angry shouts. Tears fell silently from her eyes as they spotted Darien rushing onto the street.

He was running furiously towards her, a look of sheer terror on his face. Utterly surprised by the fear that lay unconcealed in the dark depths of his eyes, Serena let out a guttural groan filled with all the emotions that were bottled up inside her. Determined. That was how Darien looked like, Serena thought dazedly; he looked so damned determined. With great effort she swallowed the painful lump in her throat, trying to suppress a cry.

She didn't understand. Why was he looking at her like that; with that fearful tortured look? He didn't care about her—she found that out tonight. And yet he was willing to risk his life to save her? It wasn't possible. Her vision blurred, and the images of the party began swimming in her mind as light-headedness consumed her.

This really was it, Serena realized. She could not believe that it had just been an hour ago, when she had been dancing in Darien's arms. Remembering their playful banter about the 'correct' way Europeans danced the waltz, made her heart constrict. Had it really just been an hour ago? A mere hour ago that she had been daydreaming of being kissed by his lips, of being held in his arms forever—the world be damned?

Oh god, she screamed at herself, what was she thinking? Just because Darien didn't share her same feelings didn't mean he did not care for her. Hell, he'd been her friend. That was their agreement, and what did she do in repayment to his kindness? She had to fall in love with him! Darien wasn't at fault; it was all her fault, all her damned fault! As she looked upon the handsome man's ravaged face, she realized just how horrid she had been and just how wonderful he was. And now he was even trying to save her life! The realizations made Serena hate herself—she couldn't be more selfish!

Shaking her head furiously to discourage him, she attempted to do her first act of selflessness for the night—she would save his life. Serena knew that if she allowed him to come any closer, it would be he who would be hit by the truck, not her. Fear gripped her entire being. She would not let Darien sacrifice himself for her.

"Get back," she heard herself sob. "Don't come any nearer, Darien—please, Darien, listen to me!"

It was futile. Darien was on the brink of madness. He couldn't believe how stupid she was. Couldn't she see that she was going to be hit by a truck? He was downright furious! How could she put him through this torment—it was plain mean! Fighting back a roar of rage, he just charged blindly toward her, ignorant to everything but saving her.

He could see the fat tears flowing down her face and the pain in her eyes as he neared. Pumping his arms faster, forcing his legs into longer strides, Darien launched himself at her with all the strength he could muster. Somewhere in the back of his mind he registered the angry holler of a horn and the loud vroom of a truck going by as his body collided with Serena's.

For a second in time, all seemed to be still as he and Serena tumbled onto the sidewalk. With heart racing, breath labored and brain pounding, Darien laid atop her with his eyes still closed, hoping like hell that they had not been hit. After a moment, he realized they were safe and sighed with relief. From all the terror he had been feeling, his senses had been put momentarily on pause; now he could hear the whispers of people drawing nearer and what scared him most…Serena's still body.

"Serena," Darien whispered brokenly into her hair.

No answer.

Pulling himself off her and onto his side, he looked down into her pale face. She was lifeless. A muscle moved spasmodically at the base of Darien's throat as he studied the unconscious woman. Long black lashes rested against fair skin. Her face was relaxed with no strain or pain. Luscious pink lips parted in an 'O', as Darien gently lifted her head into his arms.

The tightening in his chest was unbearable as he held her limp body in his arms. "Serena," he urged her to respond. When she remained silent, he crushed her comatose body to his and buried his head in her hair. He couldn't take the pain of seeing her this way.

An audience watched on in astonishment as the dark haired man began to speak tenderly to the woman he held in his arms. He spoke every word with urgency, pleading her to open her eyes, to say something, to move her arm, her leg—anything. When his pleading did nothing to help her condition, he resorted to angry threats, telling her that he would never forgive her if she didn't open her eyes and that he would never apologize to her for what he did that night if she died. It appeared that he was totally oblivious to them watching him.

Lifting his head from her body, Darien frowned at her. She shouldn't be like this, he reasoned, they hadn't been hit by the car. Serena should be fine, just as he was fine. The car had not hit her, and so she must have been injured in the fall…

Darien did his best not to cry out with fury. He had just noticed the dampness of his hand behind her head. Pulling one out from behind her, horror grabbed onto him once more at the sight of the dark blood that covered his hand and soaked the sleeve of his white collar shirt. Completely shocked, he just stared intently at his hand, though not seeing it at all. All he could think about was that he did this to her.

A loud siren split the dead silence in Darien's mind, forcing him into abrupt awareness of where he was and what had just happened. At first the alarm bell was faint, but as it neared, it grew stronger and louder until Darien had to wince at the sound. Apparently someone had called the ambulance for him while he was acing like a stupid idiot, begging for an unconscious woman to answer him.

The crowd parted as a man—whom Darien took for as the Paramedic—made his way towards them with a black bag in hand. His expression was professional, but when he saw Serena lying cold and looking somewhat dead, he hastened his pace. Kneeling beside them, he cast a quick glance at Darien. "What's wrong with her?" He went on to open his bag and take out a stethoscope.

"What the hell does it look like its wrong with her?" Darien bit back impatiently.

"Sir, calm down. We need to know her condition—," an EMT stood behind him, peering over Darien's shoulder down at the patient.

With frustration, Darien sighed exasperatedly and looked up at the man behind him with harsh cold eyes. "Then find out her condition—that's what you're trained to do!"

"Sir, if you don't calm down. I'm going to have to ask you to step away from the patient and—"

"The hell you will—," Darien began angrily.

"She has a pulse."

The announcement from the Paramedic immediately captured Darien's attention. Finally, he thought, we're getting somewhere.

"Uh oh, that's not good," the medical technician remarked dryly at the sight of Serena's bleeding head. "Yoshizumi, bring around the stretcher."

"Will she be okay?" Darien asked. His gaze was focused on the man who scurried to fetch the stretcher and then back down onto Serena's beautiful face.

"I'm not certain," the short man replied with a thoughtful frown, "That head injury looks pretty serious."

Darien glared at the man, at the same time caressing Serena's cold cheek with his thumb, "Aren't you trained to handle these types of situations? Shouldn't you do something to stop the bleeding at least?"

The paramedic flushed, and unconsciously rubbed the back of his neck. "Well…er…Head injuries aren't in my field of work, sir. I don't want to do anything that may hurt her current condition, so we must transfer her as quickly as we can to Tokyo hospital."

Swallowing past the ache in his throat, he nodded. Suppressing his frustration, Darien smoothed his thumb across Serena's cold cheek again.

"Hang on, Serena," he whispered achingly. "Don't you dare die on me," the harshness in his voice was lessened by the look of torment written on his face. And then she was raised onto the stretcher.

---

His cell phone rang for the twentieth time…maybe more. He didn't answer it though. Darien was unaware of the constant vibrating and ringing of the mechanism in his pocket. All he could think about, all he could feel was numbness. An aching numbness of loss and emptiness.

Sitting slumped in a chair directly across from the surgery room, he looked a mess. Dark ebony locks hung over a face tilted downwards in a desolate manner—the unruly mop of hair seemed to have been warned by a hand raking through its strands. To all the nurses who eyed the handsome young man, he looked completely detached. His eyes were bland—completely without a trace of emotion. Firm lips were tightly shut, giving him an air of cool sophistication. What gave away his inner turmoil though, was the constant pacing he did every other minute.

It had been an hour since the doctor had last spoken to him. A whole damned hour and Darien was going insane from the waiting. Clenching his jaw shut, he got to his feet again and started walking back and forth before the door. Hands clasped to his back, his legs moved in a brisk pace. He was fighting back the urge to roar, to swing his fist into the face of the next person who bothered to ask him if he needed assistance; it was his control that held him back; the control he had learned as a child, forcing himself not to cry or scream at his father's beatings. It really did come in handy, he thought bitterly.

"Sir?"

Darien whirled around at the sound of the nurse's tentative voice; a mean scowl on his face. His eyes flashed with something so terrifying, the woman cringed even from where she sat, behind the front desk.

With as much courage as she could draw up, she stuttered, "C-can you t-turn off your c-cell phone, sir?"

Flicking a glance down at his pocket, Darien finally registered the vibration against his leg and frowned. He glanced back up to give the woman an apologetic nod, before pulling out the phone. Quickly viewing the name and picture that was displayed on the front screen, he hesitated for a moment, then decided to answer it.

"Yes?" He said brusquely into the phone.

He almost dropped his phone as an answer came back. "Where the hell are you?" The shrill sound of Mina's voice was fatal to his ears.

Darien didn't want to tell her. Not now, not when he was feeling as terrible as he was. On the brink of losing his control, he couldn't let her or anyone else see him in this state. Surely there'd already be an article right now being printed for tomorrow's paper and since he was involved in the accident, there probably would be some coverage on television news as well.

He didn't realize it, but a long moment passed. "Darien? Can you hear me? I want to know where the hell you are!"

Shaking his head to get rid of the dizziness that was coming over him, he answered calmly. "We're fine."

"Serena's with you?" The relief in her voice was not lost to Darien. "Good…good. Where are you two?"

With a hand on his waist, Darien turned from the surgery room to the glass wall looking out into the parking lot; an unreadable expression on his face. A nurse gave him a frown. And Darien bowed his head apologetically at the subtle warning in her eyes. She didn't have to say it, but Darien knew he couldn't use his cell phone inside.

"Hold on, Mina," he said steadily; walking towards the electronic doors that led outside.

"What do you mean hold on? It's been three damn hours! Everyone here is in an uproar wondering where the hell the two of you have gone! Do you know how worried we all are; me, Lita, Rei, Amy, Zach, Andrew, Malcolm, James, Natha—"

It took all of Darien's restraint to hold himself back from shouting at her. Coming to an abrupt stop at the end of the sidewalk, he scowled. He reasoned with himself that Mina didn't know what he was going through, and that she couldn't possibly imagine what he was feeling. "I get it," he wryly interrupted.

"No, I don't think you do!" Mina shouted angrily into the receiver.

Taking in the stiff night air, Darien sighed defeatedly. There was no use in arguing with Mina; she was completely impossible. "Listen, just trust me, okay?" Casting a wary glance over his shoulder towards the hospital doors, Darien lowered his voice. "I've got everything under control. Tell everyone that I'm escorting Serena home."

"You mean you're not doing that?" Mina sounded hysterical now. "That's what I thought you were doing! What are you doing?"

Flinching at the accusatory tone in her voice, Darien shrugged his shoulders. "I'll tell you when I'm sure what the hell is going on. Just trust me, you hear."

"You know you're not the only one who cares about Serena, Darien." Darien's body became stiff at her soft voice. "We all care for her too."

Taking in a long breath of air, Darien stalled for patience, biting back the urge to make an asinine remark. After he exhaled, long and slow, he replied. "I know, Mina."

"Then tell us, please, what's wrong?" There was a frantic pitch in her voice as she beseeched.

Closing his eyes, Darien tried to slow his thudding heart. How could he tell her the truth? The news would break her heart, and Darien didn't want to cause Mina or anyone else pain as well. He pondered the situation for a while and then finally decided on the action he would take. Serena's condition was still uncertain, and so if news of her state became direr, he would tell her so they could all come down and say good-bye. That was what Serena would have wanted, Darien knew, but pushed that thought away, not wanting to believe that she could die. If Serena remained stable for the rest of the night, however, come morning, he was sure Mina and the gang would find out what had happened, so he needn't bother telling her.

He hung up on her—there was no way in hell he was going to let Serena die on him. No way.

It was too soon, he kept saying to himself. She was still so young, so impressionable…and so innocent. Never had he known anyone as sweet, as gentle, or as lively as she. He had persistently tried to shield himself from her; telling himself that she was just like every other woman, cajoling himself to believe that she was just as spiteful and deceiving as the rest of her sex. The truth was hard to deny, now that he was on the brink of losing her. Serena was as pure as fresh fallen snow the morning after a winter storm. She couldn't die, he told himself. Not now, when she had just entered his life, not when she had just gotten herself settled in his heart, and not when she had just brought him such happiness.

Shaking off the feeling of dread that washed over him, Darien strode back into the hospital. Behind him, he left a still parking lot to bask in the cool balmy night air.

---

"What did he say?" Malcolm asked, coming up behind Mina.

The blonde whirled around at his voice. She wore an expression of shock disbelief. With mouth and eyes wide open, she gawked dubiously at Malcolm. "He hung up on me!"

Malcolm flinched, watching Mina recover from her state of alarm which was soon turning into anger. In the last three hours, they had been trying to hold the press from asking their many questions, but it was no use. The only way to make them leave was to have Mina give a statement, and it was clear to see that she was in no state to do so.

"I would be surprised if he didn't," Malcolm replied mockingly. Darien had every right to do so after the humiliation Mina had just caused him, but Malcolm really wished his friend wouldn't have done that. Mina was terribly distressed, and she needed to remain calm to face the reporters.

"Shut up, Malcolm," Mina hissed. "I know I was wrong. I shouldn't have done something so irrational; it's just that, I felt so guilty—"

"You don't have to try and explain yourself to me," Malcolm broke in, "I understand. And what you did won't change how I feel about you."

Mina responded to Malcolm's tender tone by wrapping her arms around him. Unconsciously, she rubbed her cheek against the soft material of his black jacket. "I—It's all my fault!"

"Yeah, babe, it is." Malcolm smiled into her hair, giving her a squeeze.

She cried then. And Malcolm held her close against him, hoping to absorb all the pain she was feeling. "I'm so worried," she confessed quietly. "Did you know, Malcolm, that Darien wouldn't tell me where he and Serena were? He never lies to me!"

"Are we backed to that again?" Malcolm asked soothingly, sliding a hand over her back to curve around her shaking shoulders.

Mina laughed at that, and then buried her head deeper into his chest. "Oh all right," she sighed, "He did lie to me—it's just very, very hard to believe. I mean, he use to always tell me everything."

She sounded so forlorn, Malcolm didn't dare laugh. "Love, he has every right to withhold any information he wants from you."

"Are you on his side or mine?" Mina demanded, pulling out of his arms to glare at him.

Malcolm cupped her face in his hands and wiped away a lone tear gliding down her rosy cheeks. "I'm not taking anybody's side," he stated dryly.

The frown on her face grew deeper, "Malcolm…" she warned.

He smiled at her, "On second thought…"

"Yeah?"

"I'm on Serena's side." He had answered most seriously. There was a nagging sensation eating at him, telling him that there were more than two victims in tonight's burst of emotions. Somehow, Serena had ended up as the pawn in Darien's and Mina's childish scene—almost like a diversion. And it was Darien who had used her as a shield. That realization made Malcolm scowl; to think that Serena had put her complete trust in Darien and have him use her in such a way must have been a major blow to her, thus she had fled from the scene. It wasn't Darien who had been humiliated; they were all wrong.

It was Serena who had her pride stripped away.

"What!" Mina exclaimed.

"Mina, you're such a selfish snob, but that's why I love you." A thoughtful frown spilt across Malcolm's forehead as he drew the blonde into his embrace again. He was feeling rather nauseous at the thought of what Serena must have felt when Darien had proclaimed that they were to marry.

"Did you just insult me?" Mina demanded, glaring up at him. Malcolm tried to force the waxing anger he felt upon Serena's behalf down. When he thought he had control, he looked down onto Mina's face.

"Yes, sweetheart," He pushed her head back against his chest, "I did insult you." His tone was no longer teasing however.

"How nice of you," Mina pushed against his chest so he would release her. He didn't know his strength, she thought. He was crushing her.

"No," Malcolm roughly pushed her away, his hands gripping her shoulders, "How nice of you!"

It was plain to see that Mina was becoming quite frightened, but Malcolm didn't care. He was in love with a selfish little girl, and he was furious with himself for it. These past three hours all Mina worried about was how she had hurt Darien's feelings and how he had lied to her. Never once had he heard her worry over Serena's hurt feelings. In his opinion, it was Serena who was injured the most out of Mina's impulsive action. And his heart went out to her.

He shook his head; Serena was such a strong girl, sometimes it was hard to believe that anything could hurt her. But all the same, that was no excuse. There was no mistaking the look in her eyes when she had fled from the mansion. He had never seen such anguish before, and what pained him the most was knowing that her torment was caused by them—her trusted friends.

"Malcolm, what are you talking about?"

Mina's hoarse voice broke through his thoughts, and Malcolm continued to glare furiously at her. "I'm talking about what you did to Serena!"

Confusion was evident in her eyes as she said, "Malcolm you're not making any sense; I didn't do anything to Serena."

With a harsh sigh, Malcolm released her shoulders. He just realized that the thought that Serena could have also been a victim of her carelessness never crossed Mina's mind, and Malcolm felt disgusted. Why in the world did he have to fall in love with his best friend's ex-girlfriend, when he could have fallen in love with Serena? She was one of the most courageous and selfless people he had ever met, and to top it off, she was breathtakingly beautiful. Why, he asked himself, why couldn't he have fallen in love with Serena?

"Malcolm!" Mina yelled at his retreating back. "Malcolm get back here!"

Without turning he shouted over his shoulder unfeelingly, "Wipe your tears, you're to give a statement to the press in five minutes."

With a new anger coursing through her veins, Mina ran after the light-haired fellow. She could not believe him! The nerve he had to insult her and then walk away without explaining himself. And she didn't even provoke him, she didn't do anything. Mina grabbed onto his wrist, but he didn't stop, he just kept on walking.

With a horrified gasp, Mina tried to keep up with his fast pace. He didn't even look at her when she bit her nails into his skin. And when she increased the pressure he increased his speed until she was running alongside him.

"Malcolm!" She gasped.

"Let go, Mina," He warned darkly, his eyes still riveted ahead of him.

"Not until you answer me!"

She ran into his backside as he came to an abrupt stop. "I always knew you were selfish, Mina, but I never thought you could be such a heartless bitch."

Her eyes widened at his remark. As if unable to believe what she had just heard she shook her head and then continued to stare at him wide-eyed and mouth agape. "What did you just call me?"

Malcolm smirked at her, his eyes piercing, "That's right; I just called you a heartless bitch."

"Why?" Her hand fell away from his wrist as she wrapped her arms around herself.

"Have you thought of Serena at all tonight, about how she may be feeling?" Malcolm demanded angrily. He would not feel guilty for making her cry, Malcolm told himself as he saw Mina's eyes turn glassy. Mina needed a reality check; the world did not revolve around her.

"Of course I have," she replied, still looking completely clueless.

With a frustrated sigh, Malcolm slowly eased the tension in his neck away by rotating his head in a circle. "And how do you think she's feeling right now, Mina? Do you think she's feeling happy; come on, tell me?" He chided with a sardonic grin curving his lips.

"Well no…I suppose not, er, I don't know!" Mina paused, and then rolled her eyes, "Why would I be thinking about that? All I can think about right now is where she's run off to! I'm terrified something horrible has happened to her!"

His hands closed into a tight fist at his sides at Mina's answer. Malcolm looked upon her beautiful face with disgust; he couldn't believe she could be so unfeeling. Mina was always so lively, so filled with happiness, that it was downright contagious, but she was no longer a child, and she couldn't always be happy-go-lucky. She needed to learn the repercussions of her behavior and she needed to learn that she can't pay for everything she's broken and make it all better, because she could never pay Serena back for hurting her. It was as though Mina were a reckless sixteen year old trapped in a twenty-three year old woman's body.

"You don't get it; you just don't get it," Malcolm said sullenly, and then he let go of her shoulders and straightened.

"Malcolm, please," she sobbed, "Explain to me what I did wrong!"

A grim smile stretched across his face. "Nothing," he lifted a hand to rouse her hair, "You did nothing but be yourself, and you can't help that."

"If you'd explain what I did—"

"You didn't do anything, Mina!" Malcolm looked furious, "Now go!"

Elegantly arched brows drew together at his order, "What?"

"Go now," Malcolm pushed her up the stage that the band had once occupied, "The press is waiting for your speech."

From the audience, Malcolm watched as Mina's disposition made a one-eighty turn. Her eyes lit up and a serene smile was plastered on her face as she began speaking. The light hit her just perfectly, bringing attention to her shimmering blonde hair and rosy cheeks. But instead of admiration, a feeling of disappointment swept through him. After all these years, he was finally able to see her for who she was. A fake.

It was apparent to him now that Mina basked in the luxury of high-society. She loved the parties, the media, and the expensive accessories. But who was to blame her when she lived in a materialistic world—where one chose practicality over emotion and where one put oneself before others? Mina was not heartless; she just didn't know better.

"Well there goes my speech," Mina chuckled good-humoredly, tossing a folded white piece of paper over her shoulder. The audience smiled at her encouragingly as they held their pens poised over notepads. "Thank you all for coming. I was going to give my birthday speech, but it seems that there is another matter I must address. As you all know, Mr. Chiba and I have been going out for a few years now. I'm sorry to say that you have just witnessed the end."

There was a murmuring in the crowd at that statement, but they all quieted when she cleared her throat to begin again. "Whether it is Mr. Chiba's true intent to marry Ms. Tsukino or not, I do not know. Right now, I have confirmation that both of them are doing fine and that no one is to worry. Thank you, that's all I have to say. Please leave through the back gates."

"Ms. Aino, Ms. Aino, how long has Ms. Tsukino and Mr. Chiba been seeing each other?" A reporter shouted, jumping to his feet.

"Ms. Aino, where is the couple now? Why did Ms. Tsukino run?"

"Ms. Aino, who is Ms. Tsukino?" Another reported asked.

Mina sighed, and raised her hand to put an end to all the questions. "I will not answer any more questions. I was asked to give a statement, and so I did. If you're looking for a press conference, you will have to wait for another day."

As Mina walked off the stage, more questions were bombarded at her, but she spoke not another word. Looks of disappointment swept over the crowd, but not until Aeya, the Ainos' head butler, came onto the stage and told them to get out or get thrown out, did the audience disperse.

---

"You should really get that checked out, you know?"

Darien's head snapped up at the statement. He was feeling miserable, and the pounding ache in his head was becoming unbearable. With all the control he could gather, he did his best to hold onto his sanity—which was quickly dissipating by each passing second. He was oblivious of the world around him, only concentrating on the chaos in his mind.

However, he immediately straightened at the sound of Serena's surgeon's voice. Forcing a placid expression onto his face, he stood to greet the doctor. "Hello, sir."

The surgeon merely raised a brow in answer, "I was referring to your arm."

Baffled, and somewhat caught off guard by the amusement in the man's tone, Darien frowned. His reaction won a chuckle from the doctor; it was easy to see that Darien had not been paying attention to what the other man had said.

"What?" Darien asked, still frowning.

"Your arm," the doctor repeated, "I said you should get it checked out."

The confusion was again obvious upon Darien's face and the surgeon smiled. It was plain to him that the young man had been so absorbed in his worry for the young lady he had brought in that he had not even noticed the large gash in his arm.

At first glance, Darien already knew the cut must not have been very severe, so he simply shrugged. In fact, he hadn't even noticed it until this moment. He must have scraped it against the asphalt road when he had pushed Serena out of the pathway of the semi-truck. "It's only a paltry cut," he replied nonchalantly.

Stunned, the doctor replied, "Paltry cut? Your shirt is soaked in blood!" And he jabbed a finger at Darien's left arm for emphasis; his once white sleeve was torn and covered in a dark red liquid. "You're gonna need to have that cleaned, and—" he grabbed hold of Darien's arm for a closer inspection, "—stitches, yes, you'll need stitches for this. It's a pretty bad scrape you have here. Come on, I'll walk you down to the—"

"No," Darien shook his head. He refused to leave Serena; he would never forgive himself if something happened to her and he wasn't there waiting for her. "I'd rather not leave."

It was apparent to the doctor that the young man was going to be stubborn, and so he sighed with defeat. Letting go of Darien's arm, the physician reached into the pocket of his white coat and pulled out a badge. "Here," he said, handing it over to Darien, "Go and see her. Just show my crew this badge and they'll allow you entry, but you'll only have a few minutes. After you've seen her, get your arm checked out."

For a long minute, the doctor thought the young man wouldn't answer him, but when he did, he wished he hadn't. There was a look of hope on the dark-haired man's face, as he looked up to clutch the badge.

"Does this mean she'll be all right, sir?" Darien asked; his chest constricting in anticipation for the answer.

Solemnly the doctor shook his head, a feeling of guilt swept through him. "I really don't know. Head injuries can be…unpredictable."

Darien nodded calmly, accepting his answer, even though he was terrified by it. "I understand."

"May I ask what your relation is to Ms. Tsukino, Mr.…?"

"Chiba," Darien replied.

"Mr. Chiba," The doctor repeated. "Mr. Chiba," he said again, this time with a look of amazement on his face. "Mr. Chiba as in the heir to the Chiba industries?" At Darien's brusque nod, the doctor went on to say, "Well it's a pleasure to meet you Mr. Chiba. I thought you looked familiar." He clasped Darien's good hand.

Nodding his head in the practiced fashion he had learned to do when growing up, Darien hid his annoyance well. "You were saying, sir?"

The doctor withdrew his hand and laughed, "Oh, yes, I was going to ask what your relation is with Ms. Tsukino. Are you involved romantically with the lady?"

"Yes." He did not even hesitate when answering.

"Ah, good…that's good." Darien watched the older man rub his chin; his patience wearing thin. "I want to make sure you know that even if Ms. Tsukino is to live, she may not recover."

"I understand that."

"And there may be certain complications that may affect her lifestyle—it could be a mental or physical problem, maybe even both, and so I want to inform you now of the seriousness of the her condition. Like I said, head injuries are unpredictable."

"As long as she lives, damn it; I'll be fine."

"No," the surgeon said grimly, "You don't understand, Mr. Chiba. Even if she were to live, she may never wake up."

His words hit like a bullet. The wind was definitely knocked out of him by the doctor's words, and Darien had to painfully swallow pass the lump in his throat to regain his composure. He couldn't believe it; he wouldn't. "You don't mean to say that she's in a coma, do you? Do you!" He demanded as his control slipped away.

The physician gulped, and hastily took a couple of steps back. "Yes, that's exactly what I mean."

Darien was shaking. He didn't know what he was feeling—he didn't know what to think, what to do—he was just lost; lost in a torrent of violent emotions. There was so many things rushing through his mind at once, he became immobile; it was like his body just shut down—as though his brain had just stopped the flow of blood through his veins, and slowly, little by little, his body just stopped all function. And the pain that consumed him only became stronger, until all he felt was a dull ache.

"Are you okay, Mr. Chiba?" The surgeon asked with growing concern as he watched the young man stiffen and then pale in complexion.

"That's impossible," Darien stammered, "Her head slammed against the pavement, but I'm sure the injury was not fatal. It couldn't have been!" Pulling on his hair as he raked his hands through the dark locks, Darien became frantic, "There must be some mistake."

"I'm sure the bump against the pavement wasn't all that bad, but the impact had a terrible affect on her skull. There was a lot of jarring up in her head and so the brain swelled; luckily we were able to stop the swelling in time before her involuntary actions were cut off completely and she stopped breathing. But still, I must remind you that all head injuries are very serious. It also seemed to me, that she must have been in a lot of shock at the moment of the accident, or else she wouldn't be in a coma. Her brain just completely shut down; I'm thinking that has to do with a lot of stress; an overload in the mind. I'm just preparing you for the worst. She could wake up any minute now, or…she just may never wake up."

Slowly, Darien slumped down in the chair he had been sitting in. A numbness settled over his mind, his body, his soul, as he took in what the doctor was telling him. "Are you sure," he asked, forcing down the pain in his chest.

"Yes I am." And with no words of sympathy, the surgeon patted Darien on his back and started down the hall, but stopped and turned around again. "And do as I say, Mr. Chiba, I know what's best, get that arm checked out."

---

Only the flashing light of the tiny television tube illuminated the dark room. Stretched before the TV set on an old worn out couch were Kenji and Ilene Tsukino. Cuddle and cozy beneath a quilt stitched together by Ilene, they let the warm mind-fogging sensation of sleep lure them into a mellow and peaceful mood.

"Can I turn it off now, dear?" Kenji asked as he reached for the remote on the glass coffee table in front of them. Ilene had tricked him into agreeing to watch a Japanese drama she had borrowed from a friend, and they had been watching it for the pass four hours. He had dozed off now and then in between the slow parts, but his wife had not yet even blinked an eye.

"No!" Ilene whispered harshly, putting more weight onto her husband's chest so he wouldn't move. "Not yet, dear," she explained, not taking her eyes off the flashing screen, "I think she's about to tell him that she has a terminal disease."

Kenji frowned, "But you said that he was the one who dies in the end?"

Snuggling comfortably in her husbands embrace, Ilene nodded her head, "They both die, honey."

"Well isn't that a happy ending," Kenji bit out dryly.

"It's a tragedy, Kenji, not a romance." Ilene reprimanded, her voice portraying her irritation with his questions.

"Could've fooled me," Kenji was fed up. He sat up quickly and reached for the remote.

Almost thrown off the couch, Ilene glared at her husband. "Hey!" She shouted, and then righted herself in a sitting position on the next cushion beside him. "Don't you dare turn it off, don't you dare, Kenji!" Her eyes widened when she spotted the remote in his hand. "You'll be cooking your own dinners, I tell you!"

Her threat made him pause, but only for a moment, a tiny fraction of a second. The revving sound of the video player turned off. Ilene's eyes shot daggers at her husband.

Catching the look on his wife's face, Kenji shrugged. "What?" He asked innocently, "It was a stupid show anyway," he tried to justify his action.

There was no use trying to soothe her now; Ilene was furious. "Not to me it wasn't! If you didn't like it you should've gone to bed. Give me that remote!" Launching herself at Kenji, she attempted to retrieve the remote.

"Ilene, stop it," Kenji tried to reason in between fighting off his wife's attacks, "You're acting like your daughter."

"Give me that remote and go to sleep, damn you!" Ilene said through gritted teeth. Her husband held her hands in a tight grip above her head; she was trying desperately to free herself.

"Why do you want to watch such stupid things? Let's watch something else," Kenji argued, holding Ilene down by her arms. When he thought he had won, her legs started kicking.

"If you don't want to watch it, go to bed!"

"Why don't you got to bed, and let me watch TV?" Kenji groaned as one of Ilene's feet managed to kick him right in the stomach.

"I was watching it first!" Ilene declared hotly.

Kenji gave her an exasperated look as he finally was able to pin down her legs. "You tricked me."

Rolling her eyes, Ilene shook her head. "You wanted to watch it."

"You lied to me," Kenji said insistently.

"I did not," Ilene tried to shrug her husband off her, "Let go of me. I'm calm. I swear I won't do anything." Kenji gave her a wary look before he reluctantly let go of her.

"I told you it was a movie that was set in the old days about a samurai who wanted to avenge the death of his family, and you were all like 'Yeah, let's watch it!'." Ilene glared at her husband.

"And you lied!" Kenji pointed an accusatory finger at her, "It wasn't about a samurai who wanted to avenge his family! Come on, admit it, it's a damn love story!"

"If you didn't interrupt me and say, 'Yeah, let's watch it!' you would have heard the whole story! I was going to say that it was about a samurai who wanted to avenge his family, but on his journey he falls in love with the girl who is arranged to marry the guy who killed his mother and father and sister!"

There was a long moment of silence after her proclamation.

Kenji blinked, "Oh."

Ilene gave him a knowing look, and she laughed. "Yeah, 'oh'."

"W-well, you should've told me anyways!" Kenji stuttered, looking completely foolish.

"Oh, Kenji," Ilene laughed, grabbing him around the waist to hug him, "I love you."

"Hmph," was Kenji's acknowledgement of her declaration, "You still lied to me." He wrapped his arms around her nonetheless.

"You lied to yourself," Ilene smiled.

"Still," Kenji said in an unbending tone, "We're going to watch something else; we've been watching that drama since Serena left, and it still hasn't gotten anywhere."

"But—" Ilene began to protest, but Kenji held up his hand in a don't-question-me gesture.

"You can watch it after I watch the news."

Mollified, Ilene nodded, "Why would you want to watch the news anyways, nothing important goes on at this time of the night."

Yawning, Kenji settled back down on the couch. Stretching out his legs, he brought his wife down to lie in front of him. "What was that event Serena said she was going to?" He asked; throwing his arm around Ilene.

"A birthday party, dear," Ilene answered as she directed her attention to the television set.

"I know, but who was it for?"

"She said it was for her friend named Mina, Aino Mina," Ilene yawned too; she moved a hand to close over her mouth.

"Isn't she that rich girl?" Kenji speculated.

His wife lifted her shoulders in a shrug, "I don't know. She said…she…" Ilene yawned again, "She met her at school."

That statement woke them up. "That means they must be covering the party!" Kenji exclaimed, sitting up.

"Hey," Ilene shouted as he pushed her off.

"Honey, honey, look!" Kenji said excitedly, pointing to the TV screen and smiling like an idiot.

Ilene moved to sit next to her husband. "Is this it?" She raised her brows in question as she read 'Live coverage at Aino Minako's Birthday Bash'.

"Sh…" Kenji brought his finger up to his mouth, warning her to stay quiet as Aino Minako walked up on stage.

"She's beautiful," Ilene breathed.

"Quiet," Kenji hissed as the blonde began speaking. With one last irritated look at her husband, Ilene focused her attention on the newscast, hoping to get a glimpse of Serena.

She was not disappointed. Pictures of Serena in her lovely gown, dancing with men and talking with the birthday girl came on the screen one right after the other as Aino Minako spoke. When she finished her speech, both Kenji and Ilene were speechless.

"Oh my…" Ilene managed to say, a hand had moved up to spread across her pounding heart. "My baby."

"She ran off with a man?" Kenji bellowed, jumping to his feet.

"I believe she's to marry him," Ilene's eyes widened, making note of the pretty girl's speech. "She's been dating him all this time and she hasn't told us! Oh my, and he's a Chiba! Do you think we should tell her about, well, you-know-what?" Ilene asked excitedly, grabbing onto her husbands arm.

"She's going to have to marry the bastard now!" Kenji was shaking with furry, "It's everywhere; all of Japan is watching this. Her reputation will be blemished forever if she doesn't marry the man! I'll kill him!"

A soft smile curved Ilene's lips as she looked up at her husband's face, "Now, Kenji, there's probably a reasonable explanation for all this. You just need to be patient and—"

The next report on the broadcast stopped her train of thought.

"We've got a lead on where Chiba Mamoru, twenty-three, and this Ms. Tsukino, eighteen, are," the female broadcaster said. "Chiba, heir to Chiba Inc., was last spotted at Aino Minako's birthday bash earlier this evening with Tsukino.

"I know where; at a hotel." The man sitting beside the female laughed.

"Hey, that'd be my guess too, if I didn't know what happened to them," the woman joked.

"So where are they?"

"Oh, right," pulling her shoulders back, the lady said directly into the camera, "According to my resources, Mr. Chiba and Ms. Tsukino are at the Tokyo Hospital right now. Supposedly, a semi-truck out of nowhere sped down 9th Avenue and nearly struck Ms. Tsukino. From witnesses at the scene, they say that if it were not for the young Mr. Chiba, jumping to save Ms. Tsukino, she would be dead. Instead she suffered a head injury and was sent off in an ambulance to the nearest hospital. We have, Hana at the scene of the accident right now. Hana, what can you tell us about the accident?"

"Oh wow, this is a very tragic accident according to what witnesses here are telling me. The accident occurred at eleven, exactly three hours ago and as you can see behind me, a crowd still gathers here to ask whether or not the couple who had been in the accident are okay," Hana, dressed in a dark blue blazer said solemnly.

"Why do you say tragic?"

Hana shook her head, "Well, to my understanding, Ms. Tsukino came running across the street here," she pointed behind her, "and she seemed to be crying; that's what witnesses are telling me. And then Mr. Chiba came running after her, but he stops at the sidewalk and from there he attempts to try and talk to the hysterical young lady; she was very upset about something, and she began shouting at him. Nobody seemed to remember seeing the semi drive up the street until it was already too late and it seemed like Ms. Tsukino would be hit. But Mr. Chiba managed to push Ms. Tsukino so that they both were out of harms way."

"Behind me right now, they are cleaning the blood off the sidewalk. You can probably see the caution tapes and the police cars too. Oh, it's Mr. Chokichi; he was here at the moment of the incident. Mr. Chokichi, can you please tell us what happened after Mr. Chiba pushed Ms. Tsukino out of the way."

In a strained voice, the old man nodded, "It was a terrible sight. He planned to save her, but he ended up damaging her head in the process, poor fellow."

"You're talking about Mr. Chiba?" Hana asked to make sure.

"Yes, I'm talking about Mr. Chiba, who else?" The old man answered in an annoyed voice.

"And what happened after Mr. Chiba realized that Ms. Tsukino's head had been injured—did he call the police?"

"No, he didn't," Chokichi answered, "I did."

Surprised, the woman repeated, "You did?"

"Yes, I did," Chokichi looked at Hana as though she were the senile old one and not him, "The boy was in no state to. He wasn't thinking properly. I think seeing his girlfriend all cold and not moving scared the wits out of him. I've never seen such a touching show of emotion before, if I must say so myself. The boy looked so distraught; I decided that I should get the ambulance for him."

"What can you tell us about Ms. Tsukino and Mr. Chiba's injuries, Mr. Chokichi?"

"The girl was bleeding a lot from the back of the head. That much, I could see; I think it was banged on the pavement. Other than the fact that she was unconscious I can't tell you anything more, I'm not a physician. And the boy's arm was pretty banged up too."

"Oh dear, all right, thank you Mr. Chokichi for the information," Hana said, dismissing the old man. "There you have it," she said to the camera. "The authorities here say that Ms. Tsukino has been checked into Tokyo Hospital. At the moment her condition is still not yet known, but Mr. Chiba is believed to be fine. The police have already started hunting for the semi that was believed responsible for the incident. Almost running over a civilian would have to mean that the driver must have run a red light and may possibly have been speeding. That's it for now."

"Thank you, Hana. Ms. Tsukino attends Akita University. She is reported to be close friends with a number of socialites including Aino Minako, Mizuno Amy and Chiba Rei. That's all we have on her, she's really an unknown person to the media at the mom—"

From inside the Tsukino's empty apartment, the sound of an old nearly-broken-down engine come to life as a car pulled out from in front of the building and went zooming towards Tokyo Hospital.

---

The hand on his shoulder was not unnoticed to Darien. He just didn't feel like acknowledging it. And so he stayed in his position, with his head in his hands and his shoulders slumped over his body.

"You look like shit," Malcolm said gently. He moved his hand, and took a seat next to his friend. Feeling awkward and completely useless, Malcolm leant forward on his knees and cast a grim sideways look at Darien.

Turning his head to the side, Darien gave Malcolm a small smile that he didn't quite feel. "I know I do," he replied, and then he turned his head away again. Not wanting to deal with even one of his best friends, and yet he had reporters and the police pounding on his back for answers.

"Whoa, what happened to your arm?" Malcolm prodded at it, expecting Darien to flinch.

He didn't.

Instead, Darien just gave him that smile of his again, and said, "Scraped it pretty good, huh?"

Malcolm nodded, not liking this side of his friend at all. He'd seen Darien at his low points, growing up with him and all, and it was usually when Darien could not protect his younger sister, Rei, from their father's beatings, but this was a low that Malcolm had never seen before, or rather, a low that he thought he would never see on Darien. Because he looked as though…he had just lost everything that was important to him.

"What kind of service do they have in this hospital?" Malcolm asked looking down the empty hall, "Have they taken a look at your arm yet?" When Darien nodded, Malcolm gulped. "Then how come it hasn't been cleaned? God damn it, Darien!" Malcolm roared, getting to his feet.

This outburst caught Darien's full attention; his head snapped up to stare questioningly at his friend. His brows furrowed together in confusion.

"Don't look at me like that!" Malcolm yelled. He wasn't mad at Darien. No, he was furious with him. "What the hell are you moping about for? Aren't you happy; isn't this what you wanted?"

Darien sat up in his chair, a mean scowl on his face. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"You can stop the pretense there, Darien. I know you, hell; you're like a brother to me. So I want the truth from you. Isn't this what you wanted to happen to Serena; did you get what you want?"

His hands closed into tight fists at his sides at Malcolm's absurd accusations. Darien studied the fair-haired man's face, looking for any clue to what kind of game he was playing, but found none. He found nothing but genuine anger. "Of course not. What would make you think I wanted this to happen to Serena?" Darien demanded; his fists shaking from all the restraint he put on them.

"I don't know," Malcolm shook his head with disgust, "Maybe it was that kiss you gave her right in front of all of those reporters, or maybe it was your announcement that she and you were getting married. Didn't you do it to make her a laughingstock and strip her of her pride in front of national television? She messed up your plan didn't she? She slapped you right after you told the media you two were going to get married, and ruined your plans, huh? When you ran after her, it was only to pay her back for humiliating you, am I right? As soon as you saw that truck coming towards her, you thought 'hey why not just kill her, and make it look like an accident' because you knew that stripping her of her pride and dignity on live TV was equivalent to death itself to her. You knew that Darien, and yet you made her a laughing stock for Japan to see. You used her, she was your pawn in that stupid little lie you're trying so hard to hide from Mina! You killed her, you killed Ser—"

Before Malcolm could finish, Darien's fist rammed into his jaw. He flew backwards at the impact, but by the time he registered what had happened, Darien picked him up by the collar of his shirt and punched him again.

"Shut up!" Darien yelled through clenched teeth as an anger stronger than any he ever felt before took over him. "You don't know what you're saying."

Throwing Malcolm up against the white walls, Darien looked him square in the eyes, and for a moment Malcolm thought he was looking into the eyes of a lunatic. Slowly Darien raised his arm for another blow, and Malcolm closed his eyes for the next impact. He was heavily breathing and the swelling of his lips were of no help to him, but despite all of that, he felt like laughing. He had accomplished it.

Suddenly he felt a rush of air caress his face, but no pain. Nothing. With one eye clenched shut, he opened the other and found a heavy breathing Darien still looking at him with a murderous glint in his eyes, but his fist, instead of raised in front of Malcolm's face, was firmly planted by the side of Malcolm's head on the wall.

In amazement, Malcolm watched as Darien pulled away and crumbled beside him onto the floor. "I know I did," Darien said in a voice Malcolm could hardly believe was his friend's; it sounded so scared, so full of confusion, and pain, it was not the same calm and authoritative voice that commanded so many employees and business partners of a multi-billion dollar company, and Malcolm felt a gut wrenching sensation seize him. "I know I'm the one responsible for killing her…I don't need you to tell me that. I know I did."

And with that, Darien rose to his feet again and disappeared into the door across the hall from where he and Malcolm had sat.

Malcolm slid to the floor. He smiled. Raising a hand to his face he slowly rubbed at the pain in his jaw. When the pain slowly went away, he moved his jaw from side to side.

A wide grin stretched across his face as he just looked at the closed door that Darien had went through. He had been scared to death his little scheme wouldn't work, but everything went according to plan, and all he could do was grin like a simpleton.

"What possessed you?" Rei shrieked, kneeling down in front of him. "Are you crazy? Are you high?" She demanded, shoving at his shoulders, looking more confused at the smile he wore.

"No to both accounts," Malcolm laughed, shaking his head. "You see, that was what I call pure genius."

"Pure genius? That was more like pure insanity!" The raven-haired beauty declared breathlessly, completely taken aback by the scene she had just witnessed. "For a second there I thought he was going to kill you!"

Another silly grin contorted Malcolm's lips, "So did I."

Grabbing Malcolm's jaw in her hand, Rei tipped it from side to side examining the damage, "I don't know why you're smiling; your face will be black and blue tomorrow."

"Trust me I did everyone a favor," Malcolm pulled her hand away from his sore face, "You can thank me later."

"Whoa, I know that Mina might want to bust you up a little for calling her a heartless bitch, but I don't know why you went and got yourself bloodied by my brother."

"Darien needed a wake up call, Rei." Malcolm spat into the napkin that Rei handed to him and frowned at the blood he saw. "Hell, he beat me up that bad?"

Laughing, Rei rolled her eyes. "I don't know why guys think they're so tough."

Ignoring her comment, Malcolm went on to explain his actions. "Did you see the state he was in Rei?" He asked, referring to Darien. "He was crawling into a shell; not allowing any type of emotion to penetrate through the walls he built up. That's how much pain he's in, Rei; he's in so much pain the only way he can protect himself is by withdrawing from everything around him. According to the nurses I talked to, Darien hasn't moved from these chairs; not even to take a look at Serena. It's killing him, knowing that he was the cause of all her pain."

"And how the hell did you help?" Rei snorted, dabbing at his bleeding lip with her napkin until he swatted it away. She frowned.

"I made him feel."

With an eyebrow cocked Rei gave him a sardonic grin. "You made him feel what?"

"Let's just say I brought him back to the world of the living." Malcolm said wryly.

"You're strange, you know that?" She said, moving to sit beside him on the cold linoleum floor.

"Look its easy enough to understand," Malcolm gave her an annoyed look. "Darien was closing off on all emotions, and I was able to make him feel anger. Fresh, raw anger that consumed him to the point where he wanted to hurt me."

"Hmph," Rei drew her legs up to her chest, "Anyone could have done that, Sherlock."

"But you couldn't," Malcolm chided, chucking her under the chin playfully, "You didn't even understand what I was explaining to you."

"Shut up," Rei growled, shoving his hand away, "I could too. What's so hard about what you did? All you did, basically, was point out that he was a jackass and a murderer. I could've done that. Piece of cake."

Malcolm snorted.

"I resent that," Rei glared.

"Where's everyone?" Malcolm queried, shooting her a curious glance.

Rei shrugged, "Downstairs in the lobby waiting."

"Why?"

---

A sneaky smile curved Rei's red lips, "I told them that Darien wanted to see you and me first."

"And they believed you?" Malcolm's eyes lit with amusement.

"Yep," Rei laughed, "I can be very convincing! Ha, I deserved an Oscar for that performance! You know what an Oscar is, don't you? It's an award they give you in the United States for—"

"I know what an Oscar is," came Malcolm's clip reply.

Lying cold and still on the hospital bed was his friend. A friend he had grown to cherish in the span of a few months. Now she was dying, and it was his fault. Suddenly everything that had happened since their first meeting seemed like a long blissful dream sequence.

He was awake now. A bit dazed, but awake.

Raking a hand through his ebony locks, Darien released a frustrated sigh. He walked forward, away from the door towards the bed and ran a quick eye over Serena's lifeless body which was hooked onto life-support. The machine in the corner recorded her heartbeat by a rising and falling line. The smell of disinfectant and medical equipments filled Darien's nostrils; that combined with the white-washed color of the room made his stomach churn.

Raising his hand to rest on the bed, Darien continued forward, moving his hand up until it closed over the patient's cold ones. Pulling up a chair from behind him, he sat down to better look at Serena's beautiful face.

She looked just as she always did; magnificent. Maybe a bit paler, but completely breathtaking. Long dark curly lashes lay upon skin the color of cream as she slept. Luscious pink lips were parted in an 'O', completely with no strain upon her lovely face. The last time he had looked upon her lovely features they had been twisted in anguish, her eyes reflecting her tortured soul, her cries filled with agony. Now, she looked completely at peace lying still upon her hospital bed.

It wasn't supposed to end like this. Hell, if only he had been more honest with her, maybe she would have understood his actions, maybe she wouldn't have ran away from him. "Maybe," he murmured to himself as a bitterness consumed him. This was useless; he knew that. Okay, so he didn't handle the situation as smoothly as he would have handled most, but he couldn't drone about his techniques now. It was too late, and it wouldn't help him at all.

It was time to be honest. He didn't use Serena…well, not in the way Malcolm thought he did anyway. He didn't tell the media that he and Serena were going to get married just for the sake of saving his pride. In fact, he had been contemplating marriage since the moment Serena had looked up at him with her eyes shining ever so bright to lecture him on the proper way European's danced the waltz. She was an amusement he would never tire of.

But his intentions weren't all that honest either. His thoughts on marriage to the beautiful girl were not based upon love. They were the result of careful planning and reasonable thinking.

He knew Serena was bent upon independence; she needed no man to make her happy, she said. And he too was ready to proclaim himself a bachelor for life after his failed attempt to propose to Mina. That was the basis for his reasoning. Neither he nor Serena needed or wanted love from the other, and so their marriage would be nothing but a business partnership. She might be unwilling at first, but she would be able to produce him a legitimate heir, and he could support her financially. And since both felt a lasting attachment to the other, being very good friends and all, the public show of affection could easily be pulled off.

His plan was sound. It was perfect. Completely bullet proof. Except the fact that he forgot the tiny detail of sharing his wonderful plan with his soon-to-be-bride, and so she freaked and ran away. Next time, he assured himself, he would make sure to pay attention to every tiny detail.

A humorless smile curved his lips as he pondered on his thoughts. Rubbing a thumb across his chin in an unconscious action, he breathed in sharply, furious at his mistake.

The wait was killing him. His patience was wearing thin, and his control was about ready to snap. He had no one to blame but himself for the way he was feeling. It was his entire fault that Serena was on the brink of death. Reaching a hand to curve around her pale face, Darien caressed her silky cheeks soothingly.

And that was the scene Kenji and Ilene Tsukino witnessed when they burst into the hospital room.

When her eyes fell upon the handsome dark haired man tenderly caressing her daughter's face, Ilene's breath caught in her throat. The look in his eyes was so tender and sorrowful; there was no doubt in her mind that he loved Serena. Her heart swelled at the picture they made.

Kenji, however, did not seem to share his wife's sentiments. "Who the hell are you?" He shouted, bounding towards the young man touching his daughter.

Ilene watched, a fiery tint rising in her cheeks from embarrassment, as Chiba's head whipped around to glare coldly at her husband. Oh dear, she couldn't help but think to herself. Kenji could be so hot headed at times.

To Ilene's surprise, the young man took no offense to her husband's rudeness, and withdrew his hands from Serena to offer it in a handshake to the older man. "Chiba Mamoru." Though his tone was rather curt, Ilene could tell he was a rather patient man.

"Well we are her parents, Mr. Chiba," Kenji announced with pride. He did not make an effort to take Darien's hand.

Letting his hand fall to his side, he slipped them into his pockets. Staring coolly down at the short middle-age man, Darien said, "In that case I think I should leave you two alone with your daughter for a few minutes."

He meant to dismiss himself; that was obvious. But Ilene didn't want him to leave yet, she wanted him to answer her questions. She wanted to know her soon-to-be-son-in-law.

Just as his hand clasped around the door knob, she called out to him. "Don't go; not yet."

Turning around, Darien gave Serena's mother a charming smile. "I really don't think I should intrude."

"Why the hell not," Kenji drawled, taking his daughter's hand, "You're here already." He gave the young man a hard stare.

Pleased by her husband's, cooperating disposition, Ilene rushed forward to take the young man's arm, who blinked in surprise, and pulled him deeper into the room. "We really want to thank you for saving our daughter," Ilene smiled looking maternal; a look that Darien had never seen before in his own mother's face.

"I'm sorry I couldn't do more for her."

The biting chill of his comment was not lost to Ilene; his sarcasm confused her.

Thinking that the boy probably did not believe their gratitude, she said again, "Nonsense, if it weren't for you my daughter would be in a much worse condition. We're in debt to you."

Darien thought she didn't know how wrong her statement was. If it wasn't for him, their daughter would have never even been placed in such danger. Instead of thanking him, they should be repulsed by his presence. It was even hard for him to not feel disgusted with his behavior. He didn't deserve their appreciation, or the glowing and tender gaze Serena's mother was giving him.

"Mamoru, I can call you Mamoru can't I?" Ilene reached out a gentle hand.

"Call me Darien," he answered, looking down at the feminine hand clasping his arm.

Ilene blinked. "An English name," she breathed.

Darien nodded.

"Just like Serena," Ilene said slowly.

"Um, a lot of people go by English names nowadays." Darien replied, slightly curious of the dazed look that came over the woman.

Ilene smiled, "Maybe for you big business people, dealing with oversea clients, but not for us. Not for Serena."

Puzzled, Darien raised an inquisitive brow. "Serena is just a nickname though. Isn't her real name Usagi?" He tried to hide his curiosity with a mild tone.

"Oh, goodness, no. Her real name is Serena, but don't tell her that. She may just flip." Ilene laughed.

That little bit of information startled Darien. He smiled and played along. "Does she oppose the English name?"

Ilene snorted. "No, she does not. It's just that—"

"Ilene," Kenji said quietly. He was giving her a warning.

Realizing her near slip, Ilene laughed. "A tale for another time maybe. What we want to know, however, is what has happened to our daughter."

"Of course," Darien nodded. "I will answer any question you have for me to the best of my knowledge."

"In that case, young man, take a seat." Kenji ordered; stepping away from his daughter's bedside.

"I'd rather not," Darien replied dryly.

"Oh, but we insist." Ilene said sweetly.

Crossing his hand's over his chest, Darien braced his legs apart, and frowned down at the couple. "I'll stand."

And he stood. He stood in his same dominating stance, scrutinizing each parent.

The first to speak was Ilene. "W-we saw all that happened on the news. What we really want is the truth, your side of the story. Can you, I mean, will you tell us?"

Darien sympathized with the man and woman seated before him. For any parent to find out that their child had just been in a terrible accident through a reporter's demure account of the situation must be awful. He eased his frown just a bit.

"I'm afraid I'm the cause of your daughter's current condition, ma'am."

"No, you mustn't blame yourself, Darien," Ilene shook her head, "And call me Ilene, its only right since I'm addressing you by your first name."

"Actually, I really am at fault," he continued to persist. "You see, your daughter and I had not yet settled the issue of marriage and she was terribly upset that I had announced it to the media." It was a little white lie, but there was no turning back now.

Ilene grabbed hold of her husband's hand, who was preparing to rise out of his chair. "Kenji," she said in a pleading whisper, and then turned her attention back onto Darien. "Please explain."

"I just did."

"Wait a minute," Kenji growled, "Are you saying that you announced to the media that you planned to marry my daughter when she had not yet given you her approval, and so she became upset and threw herself in front of an oncoming vehicle? My daughter would do no such thing!"

"I would have never guessed," Darien said mockingly. His hands dropped to his sides as he clenched them into tight fists. "Of course Serena would never contemplate suicide. I really don't think you have to know her more than five minutes to figure that out."

"Are you being cheeky with me?" Kenji roared.

"Now, Kenji, be polite to the young man. He's the only one who can tell us what happened to our daughter," Ilene soothed her husbands temper.

"Sit back down, Mr. Tsukino," Darien nodded to the chair.

"I'll stand," Kenji said blandly.

"You'll sit."

The dangerously low pitch of Darien's voice proved to be very persuasive. Kenji sat. But he did not get comfortable. No. He sat stiffly and erect.

When Darien was satisfied, he continued. "Serena is very prideful."

"Hm…" Ilene smiled warmly, "I don't know where she gets it from."

Darien went on as if she had never interrupted him. "Hurt by my rash actions. She decided to leave the party. I went after her, hoping to explain, but I believe I only made things worst. I finally caught her attention just as she was crossing the road, and that was when the vehicle almost hit her. It was my fault; if I had not distracted her, she probably would not have been in the way of the truck. I accept full responsibility for this mishap."

A long moment of silence passed. Darien waited for his confession to sink in, and prepared for burst of anger that the Tsukinos' would surely unleash upon him.

They laughed, and quite loud at that.

Darien frowned in confusion as he watched the couple shake uncontrollably with giggles.

"Oh, son," Kenji said warmly between guffaws. "I hardly doubt it was your fault at all. You see, the police believe the truck driver is completely at fault. Whoever was driving that thing was being reckless and probably drunk for that matter, so you needn't beat yourself with blame. When they find the driver, he will rot in jail."

Dumb-struck, Darien could only shake his head in affirmative. "I will make sure of it."

"People are truly terrible these days," Ilene shook her head. "The driver didn't even pull over to see what the damage was. I think that's what made the police most suspicious, I mean, if I nearly hit someone, I would at least stop to see if they were all right."

"I-I'm still not sure if the truck driver is at fault." Darien scowled, mulling the thought over.

"Oh, really, Darien," Ilene smiled, "You shouldn't be so hard on yourself. There were witnesses there. They all reported that the truck was speeding and made no attempt to even stop. In fact, they said the vehicle seemed to appear out of nowhere. So you see, you have dozens of people ready to vouch for you."

Knowing it was no use to argue the issue with the two, Darien just nodded. "If that's all you wanted to know, I think I'll leave you alone with Serena now."

"Can you tell us our daughter's condition as well? Her doctor was busy with another patient and we asked the nurses but they refused to tell us anything. To tell you the truth, I don't think they believed we were really Serena's parents," she whispered this to him in a tone that he thought suggested that she found it funny.

Looking at Ilene and Kenji, Darien could hardly see the resemblance between Serena and her parents. Ilene had a natural blue tint in her hair and Kenji had brown. Serena was clearly a natural blonde. Ilene had blue eyes, but they were not as clear and brilliant as her daughters, and Kenji had dark brown irises. And besides the physical appearances, Serena had been rushed into the emergency room in a Gonroku gown, while her parents were dressed like, well, ordinary citizens. He wasn't trying to sound superior. It was just that, he knew that was what the nurses must have been thinking as they studied the couple claiming to be the parents' of Serena.

"I'm sorry, I thought you had already been informed," Darien apologized stiffly. "To tell you the truth, I'm not quite sure either. The surgeon informed me that her condition is yet to be determined. Right now, she's in a coma, but she may slip away at any time."

Ilene clasped a hand to her mouth. Kenji wrapped an arm around her. "But that must mean that she can awake at anytime as well."

"Like I said, her condition is to be determined, but, yes, she is not in any real danger."

"Thank the heavens," Ilene sighed. She looked ready to swoon. "My poor baby." Pulling away from her husband, she knelt down at Serena's bedside and gently brushed away a strand of golden blonde hair off her daughter's face. "Mommy's here, darling."

Darien winced, not wanting to give her false hope. "I'm not a doctor, so you really can't take my word for anything. I'm just reiterating what I was told."

Ilene nodded, sniffled, then wiped away the tear that was fast falling down her cheek. "You've done so much for my little girl. How can we repay you?" As she said this, she never took her gaze off her daughter.

"The only way you may repay me, is by giving me your whole-hearted approval to marry your daughter."

That statement finally managed to take Ilene's gaze off Serena. "You'll still marry her, even after all of this?"

"My word is honorable." Darien tried not to sound insulted.

Ilene saw the rigid set in the young man's jaw and flushed. "Yes, of course. There is no doubt in my mind that you are a very honorable man Darien, it's just that—that—"

"What my wife means to say is that will you still love Serena and cherish her if she does not return to her prior state of being?"

"Crippled or otherwise, I will have her." Darien said wryly.

Sighing with relief, Ilene burst into tears of joy and threw herself at a very perplexed Darien. "You're an angel, that's what you are. You're Serena's guardian angel."

Darien was stunned. He'd been called many things in his lifetime ranging from a number of curses relating to his birth to a number of silly metaphors relating to his mortality, but never had he been called an angel. Never.

"I-I guess I have your blessing then." Darien slowly patted the crying woman in his arms.

"I'm still a little peeved that Serena has never mentioned you before..." Kenji scratched his head irritably. "But you have my blessing…so long as Serena agrees."

Though he had watched Serena blossom into a beautiful young woman, Kenji had to admit he'd never taken the time to talk with his daughter. Sure he did spend a great deal of time lecturing her and teaching her through the years, but now, more than ever, he realized that he didn't even know his own daughter. Hell, he loved her, but was his love enough to be her confident? This made him wonder.

He had to put aside his own feelings. That was his problem. Maybe all that he had believed was right and justified were never really, well, right and justified. Every decision he made was based upon his own feelings, never did he stop to think about how his wife would feel or how his daughter might react, thus their poverty. Surely that was why Serena never mentioned Darien; maybe she didn't want him to tell her she was making the wrong choice. Kenji knew he could not stand before his daughter's happiness. If marriage was what she wanted, it would be what he wanted too.

Immensely relieved by Kenji's reluctant approval, though he did not look it, Darien nodded his head. He might have taken the wrong approach in warming Serena to the prospect of marriage, but that didn't mean he would botch up the rest of his plan. If he followed through with great caution, there was no doubt that everything would turn out just as he planned. Serena deserved the best. And he wanted to be the one to give it to her.

Without another word, he turned towards the door and grabbed hold of the doorknob.

Nine astonished people spilled into the room when he pulled the door open.

"Oh dear, is that you Lita?" Ilene queried breathlessly.

Raising a hand from under the pile of bodies, Lita managed to say with a mouthful of Mina's hair, "How you doing, Ms. Tsukino?"

Ilene laughed as she watched the kids jump under Darien's hard gaze. She decided she liked the way he radiated power. Serena needed a man like that, one who could bring order to her world. As her mother, Ilene couldn't have been happier for her daughter.

"How come I don't find this surprising?" Darien's cool remark made the group of friends standing before him squirm guiltily. Not even the bored tone in his voice hid underlying chill of his comment. He was chastising them, but in such a sarcastic attitude that it stung so much more than it would have if he would have given them a cruel remark.

"Cut us some slack." Zachary shrugged, and then casually slipped his hands into his pant pockets, avoiding any eye contact with the dangerous looking Darien. "If you would have just come clean and told us what the deal was, we wouldn't have to resort to such drastic measures to get some information."

Darien swallowed passed the aching lump in his throat and then raised a shaky hand to pinch the area between his eyes. His frustration was visible. "You guys would have found out. You're all here, aren't you?"

"But that's different, Darien." Mina stepped forward, her hand raised to her heart. "There's a difference between finding out from a friend or from a fucking news reporter, and you know what? We all would have preferred hearing it from you. Goodness, you're our friend, we've known each other all our lives and yet you can't trust us with the truth? That really hurts."

Her words cut like a knife. He had admitted that to himself just a few minutes ago when the Tsukino's had pleaded him for the truth. In fact, he had been filled with sympathy. He had pitied them for having to hear that their daughter may be dying in a hospital through a reporter's demure account of the situation on TV, when at the same time he was withholding Mina and Lita and Amy and Rei and Malcolm and Zachary and, well, everybody else's right to know what had happened to their friend.

"You're right, Mina," Darien replied with a derisive laugh, "You're absolutely right! I should have told you all what happened. But I didn't, okay? I didn't, and now that you guys know, I don't think it's gonna make a difference whether or not she lives. Damn it, is that what you wanted to here? That you were right?"

"No!" Mina shouted. "It might not make a difference to you. It might not make a difference to her either," Mina nodded her head in Serena's direction, "But it makes a difference us," She indicated to the Tsukinos and then to everyone else behind her. "I—do you know what I was thinking all the while Serena was in the hospital getting surgery on her head?"

The tall blonde watched as Darien raked a hand through his hair, and then lifted his head to stare directly into her eyes.

"I wasn't thinking about Serena at all."

Malcolm stared wide eyed at Mina's back; completely caught off guard that she was admitting the truth. And then his heart swelled with pride as she continued talking. He knew then, at that moment, that Mina was finally growing up.

A tear ran down her cheek, but Mina made no attempt to brush it away as she held her head up and coolly looked into Darien's cynical ones. "I was thinking about myself and about the embarrassment I had just caused for you. I was thinking about how foolish I was and whether or not you would ever forgive me. I was thinking about how you never told me about your relationship with Serena and how this night was the first time I ever heard of any romantic feelings you might have had for her. Not one thought of mine concerned Serena; not one. I know how selfish that might sound, but that's nowhere as selfish as what you did, withholding Serena's accident from us. Do you know disgusted I am with myself after I saw the news report on the accident? Hell, here I was, the whole night, wondering if you'd forgive me, when really I should have been worried about whether or not Serena would live or die. I've never been so repulsed before, and by my own actions," her voice broke somewhere long ago in her short diatribe, now she was full on sobbing.

"So," she hiccupped, "you see, it would have mattered, if not to you, if not to Serena, if not to anyone else, it would have mattered to me."

She turned around to Malcolm just as she finished, looked him in the eye and then threw herself into his arms. "That's what you were trying to tell me, weren't you? Oh, gosh, Malcolm, I'm so selfish."

Malcolm wrapped her in a fierce hug. "Hell, not anymore you aren't."

His harsh whisper said into her hair as he rubbed his bruised lips across her forehead won a reluctant giggle from Mina, before she started bawling again.

"Heck, I think we've caused quite a scene, don't you?" Lita drawled. With her hands on her hips she let her gaze sweep across every face in the room and then chuckled. "We're really sorry for the interruption, Ms. Tsukino. We'll leave you two alone with Serena now, but be quick about it. We want some time with her too!"

Kenji frowned at her. "The only thing I'll be quick about, Lita, is being quick to shut the door on you. Now get out."

Darien was the first to exit. He hadn't spoken a word since Mina's outburst, and frankly, he didn't know what to say. Never in all the years he had known Mina, did he ever see her quite so courageous and so very upset. Those were real tears he saw, real feelings he heard, and a real Mina. Hell, if it had been love he felt for her in their relationship, then how come he could never bring out this side of her. It was Malcolm who was able to really make her shine. That admission was a blow to his pride.

"Where you going man?" Nathan called after Darien's retreating back.

"For a walk," Darien called back.

"There's reporters crawling all over the place downstairs; you shouldn't leave."

"Don't worry. I'm not going downstairs."

"Darien…" Nathan said his name in a warning tone.

Lifting his injured arm, Darien replied, "I'm getting my arm cleaned up. I'll be back as soon as possible."

It turned out that as soon as possible was really a half hour wait, a couple of stitches, an x-ray, and a cast away. A total of three hours.

Darien was never going to watch a hospital scene in a movie or TV shows the same way ever again.

On a TV show when a patient rolls in on a stretcher through hospital doors, doctors and nurses swarm the person. After studying the patient for a few seconds, the doctor can easily figure out what is to be done, and will issue orders for the nurses to fulfill, before the patient has surgery or whatever. They get immediate service. But not in real life.

In real life, they have to wait in a tiny crowded room with a bunch of sick bleeding people to be seen by a nurse. In Darien's case, after he saw the assistant, who could do nothing for him, he was passed on to a doctor—oh but he couldn't forget the hour wait for that too. The medical assistant had to call someone who was trained in the particular area Darien needed, and who would be willing to take on the assignment (one would be surprised at the number of physicians who decline the offer to help someone). When he finally had a doctor who was willing to work on his arm, the physician went over the same procedure the nurse already did, left Darien to wait for a half-hour more, and then came back to stitch up his wound.

Just when all seemed done, it really wasn't. The doctor wanted to give Darien an X-ray, and what were the odds that they would find a problem? Hm…apparently, the odds were quite high. It just so happened that his arm was fractured and needed a brace for it! And so he waited another hour for a different doctor to look at his X-rays and determine what was to be done.

All of this was going through Darien's mind as he walked back to the East wing of the hospital, where Serena's room was located. He was damned furious with the hospital staff. He did not have all the time in the world to simply hang out in a hospital room and wait for some incompetent physician to tend to his bleeding arm. Damn it, give him and a needle and thread and he could have done it himself, Darien fumed.

As he rounded the corner to Serena's room, he looked up and saw that everybody was still there, waiting outside the door. It was really a sight to see, for they were all still in formal wear. The defeated and exhausted expressions on their faces were all the same. Serena was truly a blessing. It was she who brought these people, all with different backgrounds and different interests, together to share each other's pain and to watch over a common friend. Darien realized at that moment that, some way, some how, Serena had managed to make a way into all of their hearts.

"What took you so long?" Nathan was the first to spot Darien walking towards them. He had been leaning against the wall across Serena's door, looking as though he were in deep thought. When he saw Darien, he straightened his position and great concern settled on his forehead.

Darien stopped walking when he reached the group. Slipping his hands into his pant pockets, he cocked his head to the side and said, ignoring Nathan's question, "Have you guys gone in yet?"

Rei sat on the chairs pushed up against the same wall Nathan had been leaning on. Looking up at her brother with her head in her palms, Rei answered quite flatly, "Yeah. The Tsukino's are inside with her again."

Malcolm, who was holding Mina in his arms beside Serena's room, cocked an eyebrow at his dark haired friend. "What the hell is wrong with your arm?"

Mina heard that question, and immediately dropped her gaze to Darien's brace. She gasped and then broke free from Malcolm's arm. "How did you get this?" She demanded, snatching up his injured arm.

Frowning, Darien pulled his arm out of the blonde's grasp. "Does a particular accident ring a bell?" He replied dryly.

"But how'd you get it?" Mina persisted.

"Banged it," Darien raised his shoulders in a shrug.

"You fractured it, I see," Amy stated, eyeing the brace. "Must have been a nasty scrape. I saw how your arm looked like just before you walked off. You got stitches too, didn't you?"

Taken aback by the blue haired heiress' correct deductions, Darien only managed to nod dumbly at her. He didn't know Amy well. All he knew about her pretty much tied with her family business and fortune, and besides that she was a friends of Serena's he didn't know much else.

Seeing the surprised look on his face, Amy smiled, guessing his thoughts. "I'm training to become a doctor."

Returning her smile, though only out of politeness, Darien queried, "So you're not continuing the family business?"

At the reference to Mizuno Corp, Amy nodded. "It's just not for me. Business, I mean." She flushed as she looked up at him.

"Your parents' support your decision then?" He perched a hip against the wall, giving her his full attention.

"Yes, they perfectly understand."

"Who'll be running Mizuno Corp. then? Aren't you your parents' only child?"

Amy nodded, "I am, but my father agrees that I really just don't have the tenacity to work in that field of work. He's, in fact, turning over the company to his assistant. He's a young man, in his mid-thirties, and can continue the business for him."

Somewhat shocked that Mr. Mizuno would have no qualm in handing over his business, which he had built himself from scratch to a multi-million dollar empire, to a man who was not family, Darien's forehead crinkled in a deep frown. He would never do such a thing if given the option between his child and employee. Darien was stunned that the Mizuno's could be so understanding that they would allow their only child to seek her own career path rather than take the one they'd already established. Such love and compassion from parental figures was strange to him; his mother and father never showing such weak emotions before, it was understandable he found the Mizuno's love for their daughter odd.

He replied in the only way he knew how. In a sarcastic drawl he teased, "I hope you'll be a better doctor than all of these kooks working in this joint. Maybe a bit faster too. They took two hours to find someone who'd stitch up my wound."

Laughing at his expression, Amy tilted her head back to look him in the eyes, her own were shimmering with mirth, she replied, "I hope so too."

"Two hours?" Zachary gaped. "You've gotta be kidding me."

"And another hour for them to take my X-ray and give me this brace," Darien raised his injured hand, taking a seat beside his sister.

"Well…you can't really blame them. There are a lot of people who also need medical assistance; you can't always expect to be taken care of first. That's why so many physicians decline assignments that are last minute; they already have a full schedule."

"Yo Amy," Lita laughed, "I don't think these guys really care."

Blushing, Amy bowed her head, "Right, sorry."

Zachary couldn't help but notice just how cute it was when Amy got embarrassed. She looked absolutely adorable, almost childlike. It was really hard for him to believe that anyone who grew up in their social circle could be so…pure-hearted. He didn't know what to make of her.

"I-I'm gonna go have some coffee, anyone want some?" Amy asked tentatively, looking around at the group surrounding her.

"How about some tea, can you bring me a cup of hot tea?" Lita requested with a small smile, though it seemed as though her mind was on something else. She was looking out the window at the end of the hall.

"Sure." Amy nodded.

"Bring the rest of us all a cup of coffee, will you, Amy? If that's not too much trouble?" Rei's gaze moved from one weary face to another and she thought it might do them some good.

"No, that's no trouble at all."

"Thanks Amy, you're a doll." Mina beamed at her friend, making her blush all the more.

"I'll go with you."

"Thanks," Amy immediately replied, and turned to see who had offered.

Zachary was standing just behind her.

She backed up a couple of steps. Gaining her composure, Amy smiled up at him, though she couldn't believe he would want to go with her. Wait a minute. Her logic was kicking in. He only wanted to help her; it didn't mean that he, well, liked her. That thought did not douse the flames in her cheeks, if anything, it made her much more embarrassed.

"No problem." Zachary casually threw his arms around Amy's shoulders and turned her around and led her down the hall. "Since you know so much about doctors, maybe you'll also know where to find the cafeteria in a hospital?"

Andrew shook his head at Zachary as he watched the blond steer Amy around the corner. He hadn't said a word since Darien's arrival. He was confused. Hell, he didn't know what to think anymore. Everything around him was happening just too quickly for him to comprehend, to grasp; it seemed as though he were merely an outsider looking in on a show, where everybody knew there parts but he didn't. Because he didn't have any.

The last time he checked, he was sure Serena was single. Damn, the last time he checked too, he had been romantically interested with Serena not Darien. If all of that were true, how come this was the first time he had ever heard of his friend's intentions to marry Serena? Was it some kind of secret everybody was in on but him? No, he rejected that thought, everyone had been surprised by Darien's announcement of marriage. The more Andrew pondered the matter, the more befuddled he became. Nothing was making sense anymore.

"I need to talk to you," Andrew said in a quiet but firm voice. He looked up at Darien, who was sitting back in his chair with his head thrown back and eyes closed, and then started forward. He couldn't help but feel a little miffed. After all, was it not he, who had been deceived?

Darien's head snapped up at Andrew's tone. It was soft, but Darien could detect the anger. He didn't move. He just sat there, looking up at his friend unflinchingly.

"There's something I need to discuss with you privately, Darien," Andrew said through gritted teeth. The focus of his gaze was down the hallway.

Leaning back lazily in his chair, Darien crossed his long legs before him and studied Andrew's dark expression. There was no mistaking the way his voice had shook with strain when he spoke, and frankly, Darien was in no mood for a fight. As if he could keep his mind on anything else but Serena, he thought exasperatedly. But then he saw the rigid set in Andrew's jaw, and he knew that if he didn't cooperate with the blond, a fight would spill out right there.

They passed several nurses, who eyed them warily, as they rounded the corner. They continued down two more long hallways before they finally stopped. The two men stood in an empty corridor before a wide glass window, revealing a dark parking lot ten feet below.

Planting his hands on his hips, Andrew stared darkly at Darien. "How long have you and Serena been going out?" He barked the question.

Darien was not in the least disturbed by Andrew's furry. In fact, he actually looked quite bored with the topic. Shrugging his shoulders, Darien replied nonchalantly, "The moment we became friends."

That answer was not what Andrew wanted to hear. He scowled. "All right then," he bit out dryly, "When did you two become romantically involved?"

Throttling the dark haired man seemed to be like a very good idea to Andrew as he watched Darien shrug again. "Am I to keep track of that stuff?"

Becoming furious with his friend's aloof attitude, Andrew sighed with frustration. "I need to know this, Darien." His hands came up to rub the weariness out of his face. "It's the only way I can come to terms with all that has happened tonight."

The pleading edge in Andrew's voice caught Darien's attention then, and he was won over by it. Nodding, Darien became serious. "What is it you want to know?" He casually crossed one of his legs over the other as he put more of his weight on the wall he was leaning on. Expecting a fight, he had not let up his guard, but now he saw that he had been ridiculous to believe that Andrew would challenge him.

To fight over a woman was crazy. Darien knew that. And he'd be damned if he ever did such a stupid thing, too. Nonetheless fight a friend for a woman. That would be insanity. Besides, Andrew and he had been friends for too long. Darien enjoyed Andrew's demented personality and bizarre jokes. There were only a few men whom he could trust, and Andrew was one of them.

"This," Andrew paused, trying to find the right words to express his thoughts. "This whole time, while I thought that it was me who Serena really liked, you and her were…a couple?"

He couldn't tell Andrew the truth. He couldn't say, "No, Serena and I had not even discussed dating, let alone marriage. I was only lying; it was you who she was actually going out with, you who she liked," because, really, who'd believe him after the media coverage of his 'heroic' act to save her? And he wouldn't deviate from his plan. Darien had already made up his mind to follow through with it no matter the consequences. That meant even if he had to tell a few lies.

"We were kind of together long before you asked her out." That cool statement was a major blow to the blond.

"And neither Serena nor you felt inclined to tell any of us that bit of information? She just led me on, thinking I had a chance?" It wasn't anger that made Andrew's voice tremble this time, it was hurt, and maybe just a little bit of rejection.

That's when he figured it out. At his own words he was reminded of a certain conversation he had with Serena. Andrew felt like an ass. He should have known. Serena had told him so. She had told him that one night, when they went out to dinner. He remembered how she looked so stunningly beautiful that it was hard for him to breathe each time she smiled. Now he felt like an imbecile.

The wind had picked up when he finally dropped her back off at her apartment. Curly blonde tresses swayed gently in the breeze as she stepped out of his car. How stupid could he be? She had told him right in his face, right then and there, that she wanted nothing but a platonic relationship with him; her exact words were, "Look, Andrew, I just want to be friends." And how did he react again? He had shook his head at her, he had laughed! Hell, he had insisted that she felt something for him.

With his thumb and index finger holding his chin, Andrew nodded; it all was making sense to him now. "So that was what she was trying to tell me."

Quizzical, thick dark eyebrows rose at that remark. "Exactly what are you talking about?"

"Serena," Andrew said in a duh-like tone. And he looked like it made perfect sense too.

Darien rolled his eyes. "Care to explain to me what is going on in that head of yours, Blondie?"

Ignoring the stereotypical comment, Andrew nodded. "I just realized what an ass I am."

Lifting his brows with interest, Darien invited Andrew to continue with his confession. "Shit, Darien," Andrew sounded irritated, "She told me right in my face that all she wanted from me was my friendship, and I insisted that she wasn't thinking straight, that she liked me but just hadn't realized it yet."

Darien was scowling by the time Andrew finished. "You're right," he drawled, "You are an ass."

Andrew shot him a deadly glare. "Thanks, tell me something I don't know. As if I don't feel bad enough, Darien," he added with great distaste.

Smiling at Andrew's tone, Darien shook his head. "Have you heard of the phrase 'coming on too strong'?"

"Sure, add insult to injury." Andrew was now the one scowling. "Look, Darien, no hard feelings. I didn't know Serena was going out with you—in fact I don't think anybody knew until your marriage announcement tonight. Are you serious man? Marriage?"

"We'll have to see, now won't we?"

Andrew sobered at Darien's words. "Sorry," he said a bit awkwardly. He had almost forgotten Serena's condition, and he was feeling a bit ashamed. For some reason everything was becoming quite clear to him now. Everything was becoming so obviously clear that he couldn't believe that he had not ever noticed it before. He wasn't in love with Serena; Darien was. It was plain to see, one look at Darien, who was acting more like a worried husband than a worried friend, and anyone could tell just how deeply distraught he was.

The calm resolve that Darien usually wore was put back on. "It's hard to believe isn't it?"

There was no mistaking that Darien was once again hiding behind his protective walls. His tone was brisk, his attitude was detached, and his jaw was clenched tightly shut. Besides that, he was becoming sarcastic again, and Andrew knew that Darien only did that when he was feeling a bit insecure. And right now, after coming to terms that Darien was really quite fond of Serena, if not in love, Andrew knew that his friend must really be feeling anxious.

Nodding his head in agreement, Andrew lightly punched Darien in the arm. Good-humoredly he said, "She'll get through it."

"Hell, she better," Darien growled, and then they both began walking back to Serena's hospital room.

---

"Oh my, Darien, what are you still doing here?" Ilene's worried voice woke him up from his short nap.

On their way back, Andrew and Darien had ran into Zachary, who held three four-cup cup-holders in his hands, and Amy, who held, well, none in hers. When she saw them, Darien and Andrew, she immediately blushed, then pointed an accusatory finger at Zachary and explained that it was he who insisted that she let him carry them all. In response to her outburst, Zachary just winked playfully at the red-faced Amy and struck a conversation with his two friends.

After giving Mr. and Mrs. Tsukino each a cup of hot coffee, the group of worried friends sat down in silence to contemplate the events of that night. As Darien looked around at each face, he was quite surprise that of all the ladies, it was his sister who was crying silent tears. He'd seen Rei cry; in fact Rei cried quite often, especially when their parents' abused her. But these tears that he saw now, flowing steadily down her face, were so tormentingly heart-wrenching, that he almost gave in to the impulse himself.

Lita was looking off into space with a most dazed look on her face. When Darien asked if she was okay, her reply was to smile and nod and then look away. Darien believed, Lita was suffering from major shock, either that, or the brunette had tremendous faith that Serena would come out of her coma unscathed.

Amy looked on the brink of tears, but was kept from weeping by Zachary's insulting comments purposely aimed to keep her from wallowing in sorrow. Her tears were not of the same as Rei's however. She, in fact, was upset that with all of her medical knowledge she couldn't be the one tending to Serena; instead she was reduced to waiting for updates from incompetent doctors.

Though Zachary was making his interest in Amy public knowledge, James took a roundabout approach. Standing beside Serena's door, with his head bowed, he occasionally stole glances at Rei, who was looking paler by the minute. He might have thought he was being subtle, but to everyone paying attention, which was Darien alone, his long gazes were much more obvious than Zachary's outrageous comments.

Everyone was exhausted. Mina was nodding off to sleep on her feet where Malcolm had his arms wrapped around her and Nathan was slouched over on a chair, his empty coffee cup by his feet, with his head in his hands. It was apparent they needed rest.

It was five in the morning when they left.

Darien remained, and sometime between five and nine in the morning he had fallen asleep. He was haunted by images of a bewitching blonde named Serena.

Ilene looked horrified that he had slept out in the hall. "Goodness, you should have come in," her frown was thoughtful. "You didn't have to stay the night, dear; you should go home and change. That outfit does not look entirely comfortable. Go on now." Her gaze swept over his disheveled appearance.

Darien's black tuxedo jacket was laid haphazardly across the arm of his chair. His white collared shirt was no longer tucked neatly into his pants but half was sticking out on one side while the other looked ready to spill out; the cuffs were folded up to his forearms and his bowtie was hanging loosely about his neck. Dark unruly hair fell onto his forehead slightly covering midnight blue eyes that still held traces of sleep in them. He looked a mess in Ilene's opinion; a rather handsome mess.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Darien only shook his head. "I don't mind."

His tone suggested she did not argue, but she didn't give up without letting him see her displeasure. "Really, you are stubborn." she scowled.

Darien thought she was looking all motherly again. This time however, she was looking at him as though she had just caught him with his hand in a cookie jar. She even clucked her tongue at him.

"You didn't need to stay the night." She repeated again when he just continued to stare intrepidly into her eyes.

He had the audacity to smile at her. Then shook his head! Ilene thought the boy needed to learn his manners. "You should listen to your elders, and don't you dare shake your head at me again, Darien!"

He decided he liked Ilene. Darien nodded to appease her. "Yes ma'am."

"There, some manners," she beamed at him.

Noticing the car keys in her hands, Darien realized she must have been about to leave. He asked her so, and she shook her head vigorously. That made Darien doubtful. "Oh no," she said quickly, and then she let out a nervous giggle. "I wasn't about to leave. Not at all. Besides, why would I leave without my husband?"

As if on cue, Kenji came out of Serena's room and called, "Ready to go, Ilene?"

Her shoulders slumped in defeat then; Darien was reminded very much of Serena by that action. The older woman turned to glare ferociously at her husband. "Go where?" She said in an I-really-don't-know-what-you're-talking-about-but-I-actually-do tone.

Confused by his wife's strange behavior, Kenji absently laid his jacket over one arm, and blinked curiously at Ilene. "Home, of course—oh Darien, still here?" He finally noticed the way Ilene was jabbing her head towards her left.

When Darien nodded, Kenji frowned. "They let you sleep here?" Of course when he said 'they' he was referring to the hospital. "Isn't there a particular curfew for guests to visit patients?"

Darien shrugged, and then replied in a bored tone. "I suppose there is."

Deciding that he best leave the matter alone, Kenji thought to switch the subject. "You didn't need to stay overnight."

"That won't get you anywhere, Kenji," Ilene shot Darien a dark look. "I already told him so too. Darien's stubborn, you see; won't listen to a thing you tell him."

"You guys should go home and freshen up," Darien answered Ilene's glare with a charming smile. "Don't worry, I'll watch over Serena."

"You heard him, honey," Kenji said briskly, "Let's go."

"Kenji!" Ilene looked appalled. "We can't leave. He has to leave first; we are Serena's parents!"

"Damn it, woman," Kenji sounded exasperated, "He said to go!"

"He slept out here all night; don't think I'm gonna let him stay for a while longer while we go home!"

Never had he seen his parents fight like this before; it was really quite amusing to Darien as he watched Serena's parent's do so. He did find it bothering though, that they were talking about him as though he weren't even there. The argument went on for a good five more minutes before Kenji ended up pulling his wife along with him down the hall. Over his shoulder he called out to Darien, "We'll be back in an hour. Can we get you anything to eat?"

After declining the offer, Darien waited until the couple disappeared around the corner before he got up and entered Serena's room.

He slipped into a chair beside her bed and took hold of her hand in his. Darien didn't know why he did it. It was like a reflex, like second nature for him to touch her. Her hands were so small, so soft. His weren't.

Breathing out a heavy sigh, he looked up over the bed at the window. The blinds were opened, and so golden sunlight spilt into the gloomy hospital room. Outside, a busy highway neighbored the hospital building, and beyond that rose skyscrapers. The warm rays flooding the room gently touched Serena's face, making her glow.

An overwhelming sense of guilt consumed him then as he looked down at her feminine features. "I'm sorry." His raspy whisper largely contrasted with the numbing silence of the room.

"Serena, I'm so sorry," Darien said again in a soft murmur. Slowly he rubbed the back of her hand soothingly across his cheek. "If you could only open your eyes and look at me, I would explain everything to you." Turning her hand over, Darien dipped his head down to kiss her palm tenderly.

"I never meant to hurt you. If I knew how you would have reacted, I would have never said what I did—damn it, what the hell am I saying?" Darien closed his eyes in frustration.

"What I did was wrong. I should have discussed my proposition with you before I had announced it publicly. I was stupid; I wasn't thinking. And…maybe you were right," Darien said vehemently. "Maybe you were right from the very beginning. I'm an arrogant selfish bastard. I wasn't thinking about you, I was only thinking about myself. And honestly, maybe I did use you as a cushion to break my fall of embarrassment caused by Mina. That's your problem. You're too damn soft and you're too damn naïve. You shouldn't have trusted me," His tone was gruff.

He was content just watching her sleep, calmed by the inhale and exhale of her breath. "Damn it, Serena, why did you have to run anyway? Why did you have to be so hard-headed? Why couldn't you just listen to me, have just a little bit of faith in me?" Darien realized the contradiction, and forced himself to remain calm. He felt like causing some bodily damage.

Darien stood then, feeling foolish for ranting on and on to a person who couldn't even hear him. Kami, it was hard for him to look at her like this. Electrodes were attached to her scalp so the Electroencephalography could measure her brainwaves. A serene expression was on her face despite all of the medical equipment attached to her, and Darien just couldn't stomach looking at her in this way. Was it just merely yesterday that she had laughed and talked to him, he found himself thinking? Yes, it was yesterday. Funny how today she was in intensive care at Tokyo hospital, funny how she had danced with him last night but now was incapable of any movement, funny how to him she was always the epitome of life but was now on the brink of death. Darien felt like screaming. He couldn't loose her now, damn it!

It seemed that was all he could say. Damn it!

No matter how hard he tried to walk away, to leave and just forget last night with a bottle of soju. He couldn't do it. Some inexplicable, compelling force kept him glue to his spot looking over the sleeping child-like woman. In that instant he couldn't help but realize that this could be the very end. Serena might not wake up ever again, and it was his entire fault. It was his recklessness and inability to feel compassion that drove her to her untimely end.

With each breath he took the pain in his chest became unbearable. The doctor's warning was finally hitting home on him. Some common disabilities resulting from brain injuries included problems with cognition, sensory processing, communication, and behavior or mental health. There was no way Serena would be able to come out of her coma completely normal if she ever did come out of it. To get right down to the bottom point, Darien knew that if Serena didn't die, hell, he surely would.

Dropping her hand by her side, Darien swept back a strand of her silky blonde hair away from her face. "If there is any justice in the world, Serena," he whispered tenderly, "You'll come out of this coma and give me hell for all the pain I've caused you."

Even now, looking sickly and pale, Serena radiated beauty to him. Unable to help himself, Darien leaned forward until his lips captured hers in a gentle kiss. Her mouth was cold, but he didn't mind, so was his. It was only a feather-light kiss, in a scant second it was over. Then Darien gave Serena one last look before he walked out of the room.

He needed some air. The hospital scene was really driving him crazy. Darien decided he would step outside for just a while and clear his head, revise his plan, and work out a back up version. That was the way his mind work. Every decision he made had to be thought out and carefully analyzed before any procedure was carried out. That was the only way success was to be guaranteed. He was an exact man.

Last night proved his philosophy, and he would never act again on such half-baked plans. He had no patience for failure.

And that meant that he'd try anything, anything that his power and wealth would allow him, to wake Serena and help her pick up her life. He'd take her to a foreign hospital, where she could be treated by the world's best physicians and with the most advance medical technology; whatever it would take just to see her smile again.

Walking down the maze-like hallways, Darien finally found his way to the elevators. There were a few people, a small family from the looks of it, already waiting patiently for the elevator to arrive when Darien got there; they didn't pay him the least of attention. The two little boys, who looked to be no older that three and five, were too busy making faces at one another, and their parents' were too busy watching them. Darien was glad that they didn't seem to notice him.

While he waited, Darien reached into his pant pocket and pulled out his cell phone to check his inbox. He saw that he had already gotten thirteen missed calls, ten voice messages, and twenty text messages. Funny how he didn't recall hearing his phone ring or felt it vibrate. Scanning the names of those who tried to get in contact with him, Darien was slightly surprised by the number of unknown and private numbers. After listening to the voice messages, he relaxed. It was only Lita, Amy, and the Tsukino's.

The twenty text messages came mostly from Mina. They were pretty much all the same. Darien was highly amused by one in particular. It was from Mina; in it she threatened to spill the information on him and Serena to the press, who were camped outside of her family home, if he did not pick up his phone. Other than that, he got several texts from Rei telling him to come home and asking him questions about how Serena was doing.

When he was done going through all of his messages, Darien cleared his inbox and started to put his phone away.

"Oh my, gosh, I'm so sorry, sir!" The mother of the two rambunctious boys exclaimed as Darien's cell phone was sent flying out of his hands as one of the boys fell against him. "Boys! I told you to stop it!"

After she reprimanded her sons, the woman looked up again and smiled apologetically. "I'm so sorry," she repeated, "They can be a little…crazy sometimes." Looking down at her boys she scolded them. "How many times did I tell you guys to stop pushing each other? You guys need to behave; we're in a hospital!"

"And don't you look at your mother like that, Ginta. You're older than Youji, you shouldn't push him." Patting his younger son on the head, the man turned his attention to Darien, who was quietly observing the little scolding session.

"Here you go," the man said as he bent down, "You dropped this. I hope it isn't damaged." He held out Darien's cell phone to him.

"I doubt it—" Darien started to say, but was cut short.

"Look at his arm, Mommy!" Youji exclaimed. He gaped at Darien's bloody shirt.

Standing still, Darien watched, fascinated, as the little boy, who only came up to Darien's mid-thigh in height, walked forward to point a chubby little finger at Darien's brace. "He got an owie."

Darien smiled at the little boy, his first real smile since last night. He was completely won over by the boy's big curious eyes.

"Yes, Youji," the mother sighed. "He's got an owie, now get back over here. I'm so sorry," she added looking up at Darien.

"No need to apologize," Darien replied, and then he bent down to the boy's level and winked at him. "Wanna touch it?" He held out his brace to the child who nodded emphatically.

"You don't need to do that," Youji's father shook his head with dismay at his son. "He'll be taking that thing off your harm and dragging it into the car before you know it."

"That reminds me of someone." Darien didn't take his eyes off Youji when he made that comment.

"Who's that?" The woman wondered.

"Me," was all Darien said. He didn't feel like elaborating.

"Come look at it, Ginta!" Youji exclaimed, waving over his brother.

"What's so cool about it?" The older brother tried to sound uninterested, but was already running over to take a look at Darien's arm.

"Did you break it or something?" Ginta asked, frowning at the brace.

Darien looked up at the boy and shook his head. "No, I fractured it. Wanna see how it looks like?"

The two boys looked very excited at that suggestion. They nodded their heads emphatically. "How did you fra-fracture it?" Ginta struggled with the word.

Shrugging, Darien went to work taking off his brace. "I fell on it."

"How'd you fall on it?" Youji asked. He had his hand on Darien's shoulder, looking expectantly down at the older man's arm.

"How else could he have fallen on it, stupid?" Ginta rolled his eyes. "He tripped, duh!"

"Is it true?" Youji tipped his head back, a tasked that proved to be quite hard for him because he had to take a couple of steps back to balance him, to look Darien in the face. "Did you trip?"

That question was like a hit to the stomach for Darien. He looked down at the boy and shook his head. Really, Darien thought, feeling his pride slip a couple of notches, did he look like the type of man to trip and break his arm in the process? "I fractured it diving." Darien cringed at his answer too. That was a step higher, he sarcastically berated himself, it was really manly to fracture your arm diving.

"You mean diving in water?" Ginta scoffed and looked at Darien in a what-kind-of-a-man-are-you way.

"Of course he meant in the water," Youji retorted.

"You can't break your arm in the water," Ginta argued, making a face at his brother.

"Well he did!" Youji pointed at a very mortified looking Darien.

"I didn't break my arm in the water," Darien explained to them in a very firm voice.

"Then were you playing football? You play goalie, huh? I knew it. My friend hurt his arm playing goalie. I kicked the ball really high, and he dived for it. He missed it of course, because my coach says I got a strong leg, and so I always shoot the goals on my team. But my friend, he landed on his arm and broke it. My friend sucks at being goalie too. Is that why you broke your arm? Because you sucked?"

By the time Ginta finished his rant, Darien's pride was torn to pieces. He never knew how vicious little kids could be.

Finally ridding himself of the brace, he held his arm out for the boys to look at. "No, I didn't break it playing goalie," his voice was gruff as he told them so.

"Then how'd you break it?" Ginta was exasperated. Darien didn't know why, either. If anyone should have been exasperated, it should be he. In a few minutes, the little boy had charged him with being a walking disaster, a poorly trained swimmer, and a terrible goalie. Could he get more brutal, Darien wondered?

"I pushed my friend out of the way of a car."

"Ew, what's that." Youji pointed to the threads sewn into Darien's flesh.

"Stitches," Darien replied, happy to distract them away from their previous topic.

"Cool, you got stitches!" Ginta looked thrilled. "And your shirt's all bloody; must have been a bad fall."

Darien nodded.

"Does it hurt?" Youji asked quietly, transfixed by the wound.

"No, it doesn't hurt," Darien answered with a reassuring smile.

"You must be tough," Ginta complimented.

Feeling his composure regaining, Darien chuckled. "I'm very tough."

"Yeah, cause you're a hero, huh?" Youji had the largest eyes, Darien had ever seen, and right now, they were putting him on the spot.

Darien was hardly feeling like a hero. He felt more like a dirty bastard, but he ruled against telling that to the kids. "No, I'm not a hero."

"Yeah you are," Ginta insisted, "You said that you dived to push your friend out of the way of a car. Sounds like a hero to me."

"Anyone would have done the same for a friend." Darien was starting to become uncomfortable at the turn of their conversation.

"I wouldn't," Ginta told him matter of factly.

Slipping his arm back into the brace, Darien looked up at the scrawny looking boy. Ginta was about a half-foot taller than Youji, but despite that fact, they could have been mistaken as twins. They both had dark bowl-cut styled hair, and intense large brown eyes. Their round faces were so similar, so appealing, if Serena could see them, she'd call them downright adorable, Darien thought. But she wasn't. He settled for cute. The two boys were as cute as the dimple in the side of their right cheek.

Sighing, Darien reached out to ruffle Ginta's hair. "Wouldn't you save your brother?"

Ginta frowned at his question. "Of course, he's my brother."

"Why would you save your brother then, if not your friend?" Darien's brows lifted as he addressed that matter.

Ginta's frown eased as thought about his answer. He smiled brightly when knew just what to say. "Because I love my brother. Do you love your friend?"

"I'm extremely fond of her," Darien nodded.

"Your friend is a girl?" Youji's mouth opened in surprise.

When Darien said yes, Ginta cringed. "Is she your girlfriend?" And when Darien told him she wasn't, Ginta frowned. "Then why'd you save her? She isn't your girlfriend, and you don't love her."

"It's not as simple as all that," Darien gave them a weak smile.

"That's what adults say when they don't want to talk about stuff," Ginta confided to his brother, but said it so loud even his parents, who were standing a few feet away heard.

His mother gasped, "Ginta!" She looked ready to scold him again.

"What?" Ginta shrugged innocently.

Darien thought she probably decided it would be a waste of her time lecturing her son. After giving Ginta a displeased look, she said to Darien, "What's with this elevator? It's been about five minutes now."

"Technical difficulties I presume; happens all the time," Darien said expertly.

"You're probably right," she agreed.

"Boys get over here," their father commanded.

Ginta did as their father said, but Youji shook his head in defiance. "I want to stay with…" he looked at Darien for help.

"Mamoru." He gave him his Japanese name, knowing it would be hard on the child to pronounce the English one.

"I want Mamoru to hold me," Youji insisted.

"He can't Youji." Youji's father, a medium height man who looked no older than thirty, let him see his displeasure.

"Why not?" Youji protested.

"He hurt his arm, remember?"

Youji looked crestfallen, but only for a moment. "He said it didn't hurt him!"

"Youji, listen to your father."

"Fine," Youji finally gave up the fight.

"It's okay, I really don't mind." Darien reassured both scowling parents. This was actually rather odd of Darien. He'd never conversed with children before, nor did the thought ever cross his mind. But for some reason, he found that of all the people who could talk to at this dire time, people who understood his situation, he chose two little kids whom he never even met before to speak with.

At that moment the elevator door opened. Darien couldn't believe what he saw inside. Neither could Youji.

"Are those really flower's, Mom?" Youji was eyeing the inside of the elevator cautiously.

"They sure are," she breathed. She had never seen such beautiful arrangements before. "I wonder who they're for."

A cart of flowers, filled to the point of overflowing was rolled out of the elevator. There were dozens of different bouquets, and at least a hundred different types of flowers ranging from carnations to roses to lilies.

Darien knew exactly who those were going to. After the news report last night, there was no doubt to him that Serena had gained hundreds of concerned citizens' sympathy. Well-wishers will be sending in gift baskets by the end of the week.

"Sorry about the long wait," the woman who was rolling the cart apologized. "We were trying to bring up all of the flowers at once, but they didn't fit. Then we had to take them all out again to fit me inside, and it took a while."

Darien let the family go inside first, and then he proceeded after them. He waited patiently while Ginta and Youji's father pressed the first floor button.

"Are you getting off there too?" The man asked politely, his finger still poised close to the buttons just in case Darien needed to get off at a different floor.

Before Darien could nod however, a familiar voice caught his attention. It was Serena's physician.

"Wataru, I need back up; gather up anyone who's free."

"Someone's coming, better hold the doors open longer," Ginta and Youji's mother warned.

"This patient is in critical condition. We've been monitoring her all night. You need to hurry. What? Yeah, the signal went off. Okay, listen carefully. I'm on the tenth floor, and the patient's in room 905. Got that?"

Darien watched as the doctor walked passed the elevator doors. His head was pounding from what he had just overheard. Room 905….905…was that Serena's room number? No, it wasn't. It couldn't be, he told himself. His mind was overreacting.

Darien watched as the elevator doors began to close.

905…905…damn it, why did that number sound so familiar?

"Fuck!" Darien's crude exclamation wrung surprised expressions from everyone in the elevator.

His hand barely managed to squeeze in between the tiny crack of the closing doors. When they opened again, Darien bounded from the elevator with god-like speed.

Behind him, two tiny boys shared a conspiratorial smile.

"Mommy?" They both were tugging on their mother's shirt sleeves.

"Yes?"

"Mamoru said a very, very bad word."

And then they watched as the cool stranger they had just met, who they could hear roaring like an angry lion now, disappeared behind a corner just as the elevator doors closed again.

When Darien caught up with the doctor, he was still bellowing. "What happened?" He demanded.

Surprised by Darien's abrupt appearance and ferocious attitude, the physician quickened his pace. "The alarm went off warning us that she's flat lined. Her brain has just died—don't! You can't go in. Only those of us who are medically trained to handle the—" The doctor gave up.

Darien had already rounded the corner and was sprinting as fast as his legs could carry him. Along the way he passed the woman who was rolling Serena's cart of flowers, almost knocking a flower arrangement over, and when he reached Serena's room, he nearly ripped the door right off its hinges as he rushed to her side.

What he saw made his heart stop.

That is a very painful feeling too. His heart had been hammering away at such an impossible speed, and then to have it all of a sudden come to a jolting stop—Darien thought he had died.

"Oh, thank goodness it's just you," Serena said with great relief.

Darien couldn't believe it. Her sapphire blue eyes were opened and staring directly at him; eyes he thought he'd never be able to see again.

Her voice was so low, so weak, Darien had to stop his rapid breathing to hear it. "I took off those things they put on my head, but then that machine over there started to beep. I'm gonna be in trouble aren't I?" She truly looked scared.

Serena fell asleep before she could hear his answer.

Darien reacted with a flicker of irritation after the unpleasant moments of fear he had endured, followed by relief, and then to reluctant amusement.

He couldn't help the silly grin that touched his lips.

---

Jack Carson arrived at J-Entertainment at exactly seven o'clock that morning. After issuing an order to his assistant to inform Mitch to report to his office as soon as he stepped foot onto the premises, Jack slammed the door to his room and didn't step a foot out again. Mitch waltzed into Jack's office a half hour later to find the reporter busily talking into his telephone. When Jack was finished harassing the person on the other side of the receiver, he turned his attention onto Mitch.

"It's been one hell of a night, let me tell you that," Jack sounded exhausted. Shaking his head, he leaned back in his chair to better ease the tension out of his shoulders.

"Can't say I disagree with you there," Mitch smiled, and then proceeded to sit in the chair directly in front of Jack's wooden desk.

Though Jack and Mitch were considered the "new pens" in the company, their high reputations of being the very best in the United States won them the favor of the big boss, thus Jack's very own office, furnished with his own desk, chairs, couch, computer, file cabinets and shelves. Mitch and Jack were a team. Every project Jack was assigned to, Mitch followed, providing his technical skills, usually involving a camera, and his good judgment on indecisive issues. In his field of work, Mitch didn't need an office. Most of the time anyway, he spent lounging around in Jack's.

"Did you develop the pictures?"

Mitch smiled at Jack's question. Ever since they had left the party last night, Jack had been reminding him nonstop to develop the pictures. Heck, the man had called him at five that morning to make sure he didn't forget to bring them! "Of course I developed them."

"Give them to me."

"I never said I brought them, now did I?" Mitch was purposely trying to irritate Jack, who he knew was probably dreaming about this moment last night. The man never thought of anything but work. Sometimes it's scary, but that's just the way Jack was.

The expression on Jack's face showed that he was not amused. "Hand them over."

Putting his hands up in a soothing gesture, Mitch made a face at his friend. "Easy, don't get your boxers up in a bunch. Here." Reaching down into his coat pocket, Mitch pulled out a white envelope and threw it onto the wooden desk.

Opening the package, Jack withdrew the photos held inside. He scanned the first photo quickly and then carelessly threw it aside. He used the same procedure for every photo that came up next. When he was finished looking at each one, Jack frowned.

"You're looking for her, aren't you?" Mitch said knowingly, his eyes glowing.

"Give me her picture," Jack demanded. He looked furious.

Mitch's brows rose skeptically, "Don't you think you're going a little overboard? If you ask me, I think you're obsessed. What do you find so interesting about Ms. Tsukino, anyway?"

"Besides that she's drop-dead gorgeous?" Jack finally cracked a smile.

"Yeah," Mitch rolled his eyes.

"I honestly don't know."

It wasn't so much as what he said, but how he said it that persuaded Mitch. "Your instincts are kicking in again, aren't they? What do you feel about her?"

"Ms. Tsukino?"

"Yeah," Mitch nodded, "Who else could I have been talking about?"

"I really can't tell you unless you give me her photo! Hurry up, Mitch!"

Mitch deliberately too his time reaching into his other pocket to withdraw two pictures just to annoy his partner. It wasn't often that he could rile Jack, the man being so composed and all, and so whenever he had the chance, he took it. Plus he really didn't like the way Jack was growling at him.

Extending a hand for the pictures Mitch offered, Jack grabbed air. "I'm really loosing my patience, Tamada," Jack's voice was calm, but his gaze was ice.

Having had pulled the snapshot's away just before Jack could reach them, Mitch smirked. "Sorry," he apologized, though he really didn't mean it, "I couldn't help doing that. And don't call me by my last name; whenever you say it, it gives me the creeps."

Finally with the pictures in his hands, Jack calmed. He smirked at his friend, "I'll call you whatever I want."

Mitch jumped onto the couch against the wall. Crossing his legs, he settled comfortable over the cushions, and then laced his hands behind his head. He cast a fleeting look at Jack who was studying the photos of Ms. Tsukino with an intense frown. Mitch was going to reply to Jack's barb with a remark of his own, but decided against it. Jack only called him by his last name when he was angry with him, and so Mitch had an aversion to hearing it ever since.

Thinking of the peculiarity of his partner's behavior that morning, Mitch decided to ask him just what his problem was. "What's the deal with wanting to check out her photo? You were assigned Aino Minako's party, not Ms. Tsukino, a person who nobody apparently knows. Jack, are you listening to me? You're acting very strange today."

"I'll tell you what's up just as soon as you shut up," Jack replied wryly. He was giving Mitch an exasperated look. "I swear you talk too much."

"Ha ha, you're so funny," Mitch responded tonelessly. "So? What's the deal with Tsukino?"

Jack's eyes gleamed. "My instincts are acting up again. You know what I mean, don't you?"

Mitch nodded. "Of course I know. Who doesn't know? It's very uncanny the way your instincts are always right; that's how you've gotten so far in this business."

"Yeah, well, right now my instincts are telling me there's something very strange about Tsukino. I can't put my finger on it, but…does she look familiar to you in any way?"

"Familiar?" Mitch made a face. "I've never seen her before if that's what you mean."

"No, no," Jack sighed heavily. "Does she look like, well, anybody you've seen or know?"

"Jack, the girl lives in Japan. We've lived in the United States most of our lives, I'm quite positive I've never seen anyone like her before."

"I know that," Jack did his best from yelling. "It's just…I get this feeling that I've seen her before."

"I know, I know, your instincts, right?" Mitch said wearily.

"Yeah, my instincts. They're telling me, there's something not quite right about her."

"Like what? She's not as beautiful inside as she is on the outside? Does she strike you as a crazy ax-murderer?"

"I really don't appreciate your sarcasm, here, Mitch."

"I can't help it, sometimes your instincts just creep me out," Mitch confessed. Sobering, he sat up on the couch.

As he did so, the office door opened.

"I'm sorry; I hope I'm not interrupting something important." It was only Jack's assistant, Akiko.

A hint of annoyance flashed across Jack's face, but he squelched it before Akiko could see it. "No, you haven't interrupted anything important. Is there something I can help you with?"

Akiko shook her head no, and then proceeded into the office, closing the door behind her. "Sir you asked me to put together a file on Tsukino Serena for you."

Jack brightened at his assistant's mention of the request he had given her. "Oh that's right. If you're done just put the file on my desk."

The girl shook her head of curls. "No, actually I'm not finish with it."

He was finding himself sighing a lot this morning, Darien thought as he did just that. "Then what is it that you want?" Damn it, he was getting mad, he really didn't care if he was sounding rude anymore.

"I—" his assistant began but then hesitated, as though pausing to collect her thoughts. "Given the job you've assigned me, um, I believe it's within my duty to tell you everything concerning Ms. Tsukino, including leads having to do with the driver of the semi who—"

"My god, what are you waiting for? Hurry, tell us!" Jack had switched to English in his outburst. His secretary could only stare at him blankly.

Mitch laughed and took it upon himself to translate for his partner. When he told the confused looking girl to quickly explain to them the information she had for them, she had the grace to blush.

"I thought everyone knew about it," Akiko said to the ground. Her voice was filled with embarrassment. "I'm sorry, you've just moved here, and I'm already assuming you've got a TV and channels for you to watch the news, that is, of course, if you did watch TV."

Jack switched back to his amateur Japanese again. "Yes actually, I do have a TV and I do use it. Are you telling me that whatever you have to tell me was public news and I haven't heard it?" He was yelling. But not at his assistant. Oh no, he wouldn't do that. It was his own fault for not even checking for any updates about the driver of the semi in the Tsukino accident before he left the house this morning. He had been too excited to get to his office so he could start on his investigation to even bother. That'll teach him, Jack thought bitterly.

"Oh is that all you wanted to say?" Mitch looked disappointed. "Well, you can go ahead and carry on putting together a file of Tsukino for Mr. Carson. I'll inform him of the current situation of the Tsukino accident." That's what they had nicknamed Ms. Tsukino's near hit by the truck last night; the Tsukino accident.

Relief swept across Akiko's face. Apparently she found her superior very intimidating company. "All right then," she even sounded cheerier, "if you need me, I'll be at my desk."

She practically sprinted to the door.

Mitch chuckled. "She's not use to working with a big American white-boy obviously," he joked lightly.

"I resent that."

"What? That your co-workers become uneasy in your presence?" Mitch queried.

"No," Jack said menacingly. "I resent being called a white-boy."

"But you are a—"

"Shut up," Jack snapped. "I'm becoming impatient. When will someone tell me what's going on?"

Mitch gave him a sardonic grin. "Isn't that your job? You're the reporter here, not me."

"Tamada, I'll kick you in the—"

"Carson, if you'd only shut up I'd be able to tell you what you want to know." Mitch mimicked the way Jack had all too coolly quieted him earlier.

Jack growled.

"Okay, here's how it is. You remember how no one at the scene of the accident remembered seeing that truck drive up the street before it was almost too late and was going to run into—"

"Yeah," Jack interrupted rudely. "Get on with it."

"It turns out whoever was driving that thing was indeed speeding." Mitch replied simply.

"How'd they figure that?" Jack sat straight in his chair, he was thoroughly intrigued.

"The truck was stolen."

"No shit," Jack spat unbelievably.

"Yeah," Mitch nodded, "Turns out a trucking company called in to the Tokyo Police Department late that night reporting a missing truck."

"So whoever was driving that thing was fleeing from the scene of the crime," Jack pieced together.

"That's what you'd think," Mitch purposely chose his words carefully to make Jack anxious.

"So what are you trying to say?"

"The place where the truck was stolen was on the edge of town, Jack," Mitch informed him, "The driver was miles away already from the scene of the crime, what was the point of speeding? Hell, who the fuck would steal such a big automobile and drive it back into the city, where it could be so easily spotted?"

Mitch paused, allowing what he had just said to sink in to Jack. "Jack, the Tsukino accident wasn't an accident. Someone was trying to get rid of her. Permanently."

"Was the driver found?" Jack asked.

Mitch shook his head. "No, the truck was found abandoned on the side of a freeway about two hours away from town. The police couldn't find a single fingerprint or damning evidence as to who drove that thing."

"Mitch, that's it!" Jack jumped to his feet. His face bright with excitement.

One look at his partner, and Mitch knew he must have been crazy. "Look, Jack, are you feeling all right today?"

"No, Mitch, I know who she looks like, I know who she reminds me of!"

Blinking, completely taken aback at the switch of topics, Mitch could only utter one word. "Who?"

"Serenity St. James."

---

End Notes: First of all, I'd like to thank all of you who have supported me through these past couple of months. This chapter, no, this story wouldn't be here if it weren't for your wonderful e-mails and reviews that have inspired and given me the will to continue writing. And so, I dedicate this chapter to you all. I could cry just thinking about how happy all your e-mails have made me. And I'm not simply talking about those who write to me and say , "I LOVE your story!" (Honestly those somtimes get me annoyed, but if that's your prefference go ahead...knock yourself out), I'm talking about your feelings that you've poured out to me. They've truly touched me.

Let me move on to the questions I've been asked about for some time now.

Okay, first thing I want to address is my rating for this story. So I've finally confessed, well, not my age exactly but where I am currently in life...To all of you out there, that's VERY young. I know you're all probably wondering, what is a 12-14 year old doing writing a rated M story? Well, honestly, I can say right now that I haven't had any experienced with (you know those three letters...need I fill in the blanks?)...heck, I haven't even been kissed yet! But what I can say is that I'm...very well read, and so I have a sense of how sexual tension and um...yeah...is suppose to be like. I really hope you guys aren't questioning my moralities.

Second, someone asked me about Darien and school. Um...I think the question was why did I make it seem as though a twenty-three year old going to school for his master's was impressive? Hm...I can't tell you why...I just thought that it was impressive for him to be twenty-three and already in his last months of grad-school.

Oh darns...what were the other questions? Hm...I'll get back to you guys on that...