Chapter One: The Universe Strikes Back
Makoto stormed into the Crown Arcade, full of righteous indignation and a slowly simmering fury that would have scared the pants off of Beryl herself. Assuming that Beryl had worn pants, which she hadn't, and assuming that the furious Senshi of Jupiter hadn't promptly slipped in a large puddle of water and smashed her head against the pitcher lying next to it, thus rendering any scare-factor that she had going completely null and void. All of this ended with Makoto flat on her back and soaking wet, legs stuck up in the air in a very awkward position.
"Son of a..!"
Motoki, mop in hand, stared at the teenager. Well, at least there was no real need to mop anymore. Makoto's thick, green sweater had more or less managed to soak up the entire puddle. "Ah.. Makoto.. you okay?" he asked nervously. He had seen the look on her face before she slipped, and he was NOT going ANYWHERE near her until she proved that she wasn't going to start swinging. Or throwing things. Or screaming, because really, he rather enjoyed being able to hear properly.
The girl ignored him, levering herself into a sitting position and gingerly rubbing the bump forming on the back of her head. "Damn, that REALLY hurt. Who the hell left that there, anyway?" she muttered, her anger returning in full force. "If I find out, I'm gonna CLOBBER the jerk!"
Mamoru glanced at Makoto, sipping his coffee almost idly. He raised an eyebrow at his best friend. "Yes, Motoki, who could have left that there?"
The blonde was SO not admitting to that. Not a chance. No way.
"I, uh, that is.. someone must have knocked it over.." he stammered, sweating slightly as Makoto's anger-clouded gaze found him.
Akira chose that moment to poke his head (which was covered in egg yolk) out of the kitchen. "Hey, Motoki. Do we have any frying pans bigger than this?" he queried, waving a pan with a dent in it that looked strangely like the bottom of a size 12 shoe.
"Of course!" Motoki cried, relieved. "I'll uh, just.. go get it for you!" He pivoted to make good his escape, only to trip and re-acquaint himself with the floor (how many times could you fall in one day, anyway?) when Makoto lashed out and grabbed hold of his pant leg.
He'd really neglected his cleaning lately, he noted absently; his face had narrowly missed smashing into a huge wad of purple bubblegum glued to the scuffed tile.
Akira sighed dramatically. "Well, if you were busy, you could have just said so," he said, shoving a lock of egg-coated brown hair out of his eyes. "Now if you'll excuse me, I was about to whisk myself." Turning, he shuffled back into the kitchen, leaving a trail of broken eggshells in his wake.
"Motoki! I am going to.. to.. I DON'T KNOW what I'm going to do, but it is going to be painful and you will not enjoy it." Makoto growled, pushing herself to her feet and scowling down at the soon-to-be ex-arcade worker.
Honestly. Booby-trapping the place like that! He probably did it just to piss her off.
Motoki, meanwhile, was playing dead. She might kick him a few times, but surely it was better than the alternative? She'd probably wander off to find fresher meat eventually...
"Motoki, I can see you breathing. You aren't fooling anyone, you coward!" the brunette said, tapping her foot impatiently.
The boy was beginning to turn blue. Was he holding his breath?
She crouched down near his head, leaning in close so that he couldn't possibly pretend he hadn't heard her, and said, "I'm going to bite your nose. And don't think I won't. See these teeth? They are sharp and are oh-so-ready to inflict pain on your oh-so-annoying person. Motoki!" Huffing angrily, she turned to Mamoru, hands jammed onto her hips in the universal sign of feminine displeasure. "Mamoru, where is his car? You know, the shiny blue one. I'm going to key it."
Mamoru, looking for all the world as though he were enjoying this immensely (and he was), opened his mouth to reply and was cut off by a loud, decidedly feminine shriek from his best friend. He sighed, clearly disappointed. "Ah, looks like Sleeping Beauty is awake after all, Mako. Pity."
"I swear by every god I have ever heard of, ever, that I will hunt you down and lop off that ridiculous ponytail if you get within a hundred meters of my car!" Motoki cried, scrambling to his feet and placing himself between the door and the smug looking teenager.
One hand flew up to her hair, her mouth falling open in horror. "Ridiculous? My ponytail is NOT ridiculous!" she protested, tugging self-consciously on the tie holding it high on her head. "What's wrong with my ponytail?"
She was distracted! Success! Now to... actually, he had no idea what to do now. Further distract her! Yes! She couldn't disfigure his car if she was thinking about something else.
"Nothing, nothing. Look, I'm sorry. I was about to clean up the mess when you walked in and, er... did it for me." he said, casting a nervous glance out the window. His car was parked at least a block away, but that didn't mean she wouldn't sniff it out. "I think I might have a spare shirt in the back.. so.. Why don't we at least get you dry?"
Makoto frowned at him, her anger fading into vague annoyance. "Well.. fine. I guess." she muttered, plucking at the damp fabric clinging to her equally damp skin. "I should have been watching where I was going. Sorry for blaming you, Motoki. It's been one of those days." She trudged wearily toward the employee break room, not bothering to wait for him. She was still a bit angry, after all.
"Ugh. Women." Motoki grumbled, rolling his eyes. "Mamoru, if I ever start to feel lonely again, you have my permission to kill me."
It had been too long since Reika, he decided. He'd forgotten how psychotic she got when she was angry. Did all women do this? If so, he seriously needed to contemplate staying single... or turning gay. Men were never this hard to deal with.
"No problem, pal. I'll start carrying a gun, just for you." Mamoru agreed readily, snickering as he finished his coffee. "I've gotta dash. Have fun in your personal hell!"
And so saying, the other man slid off of his stool and sauntered out of the arcade, leaving his best friend to his fate.
~~~}{~~~
"I am not wearing this. NO ONE should wear this. Ever. Why do you even have this thing? It looks like Jamaica vomited all over India and some crazy American hippie decided to sew it together."
Motoki scratched the back of his head, smiling awkwardly. "I know. Sorry. It was.. uh. A gift. From Akira." he admitted, embarrassed. "Apparently it was a holiday... Something to do with a pasta god. I really have no idea what the hell he was talking about, but he insisted I keep it. I think it's called a dashiki?"
Makoto stared down at herself in disgust. "I look like a fruit roll-up."
"Well, if you hate it that much, Mako-chan, you don't have to wear it." Motoki said, shrugging. "I have a spare apron, after all. Just don't blame me if you're accosted in the park on the way home."
Actually, the apron was an interesting idea. Makoto had the figure and stature of a model, and she wasn't exactly hard on the eyes...
The brunette stared at him as his eyes glazed over, and seriously reconsidered her resolution not to beat him to a pulp. Still, she supposed it was kind of flattering. If she were a year or two younger, she'd probably be starry-eyed and comparing him to her sempai by now. Hmm, come to think of it, there was a slight resemblance... No! Bad! She was over this.
"Thanks, but no thanks. I'll just.. run all the way home, or something. Maybe no one will recognize me if I pass them quickly enough..." she said, smiling weakly.
Motoki blinked, coming out of his daydream abruptly. "Er.. yeah. Sure. Or I could drive you home. As long as you don't go ape-shit and decide the car needs to be keyed again." he said, raising an eyebrow. "It cuts down on over-all embarrassment by at least half to have tinted windows between yourself and the general populace."
Makoto coughed softly. "Ah, yeah.. there's always that. If you don't mind, that'd be great. Er.. you're not supposed to be working, are you..?"
What was she saying? A hot guy was offering her a ride home, and she was hesitating? Stupid, stupid, stupid!
"Never mind. Let's just go." she amended quickly, grabbing his hand and dragging him out of the lounge.
Confused, he allowed himself to be led (as fast as humanly possible) out of the arcade by the suddenly enthusiastic Makoto. "Well... okay?"
He'd never understand women.
As they walked away, he swore he could hear Akira yelling "May you be touched by His Noodly Appendage!" after them.
~~~}{~~~
One short, awkward drive later, the unfortunate duo pulled up in front of Makoto's apartment building, and Motoki threw the car into park. He really had no idea what to say, after all that had transpired in the last forty-five minutes. Thanks for not keying my car? Here's your stop, get your shit and get out? Probably not the best plan...
Makoto, meanwhile, was having her own internal debate. That is, whether or not to try and invite him in. The debate didn't last very long, as it was really less of a 'debate' and more of an 'evil plot'.
"Well... thanks for the ride, Motoki-kun. Er... especially after I threatened your car. And your personal well-being." she said slowly, peering up at him through her eyelashes. "You really didn't need to go out of your way like that. I hope I didn't get you in trouble with your boss."
He laughed nervously. "Ah.. no. I'd just quit, actually. I was about to get my stuff together and leave." Hopefully forever, he added mentally. He really had no desire to ever set foot in that place again. "I decided I needed a change, and, well.. Seemed like a good place to start. New job, new outlook on life."
Surprised, she turned to face him, momentarily distracted from her quest to turn the Hottie-in-the-car into the Hottie-in-her-apartment. "What? Really? I thought you liked working at the arcade..." Makoto trailed off suddenly, inspiration hitting her. Yes! The caring friend approach was BOUND to work. "Look, you know what.. Why don't you come in for a while? I'll make some tea, and you can tell me all about it." she said, smiling sympathetically. "I'd like to hear about this new life you're after, but I HAVE to get out of this.. thing." She tugged on the dashiki for emphasis.
Motoki stared at her for a moment, caught off guard by the slightly predatory gleam in the brunette's eyes. "I wouldn't want to inconvenience you, Mako-chan. I'm sure you've got things you'd rather be doing today than spending time listening to me complain about my life issues." he said carefully.
Why did he feel like he'd be stepping into the spider's proverbial parlor if he accepted her invitation? Not that he'd necessarily object to spending time with the younger woman, but he felt distinctly hunted.
"Nonsense!" Makoto proclaimed, flashing him her most charming grin. "I made cookies last night," she coaxed, "chocolate chip with walnuts. There's no way I'm going to be able to eat all of those by myself. I'd love to have some company."
"I.. well, if you're sure, I guess I could..." he said uncertainly, shifting awkwardly in his seat.
"Perfect!" Makoto beamed, and flung the car door open (Motoki winced). "Come on, your car should be fine parked here. At least for a while."
Unbuckling his seat belt and removing the keys from the ignition, Motoki slowly opened the door and slid out of the car. He had a feeling he was going to regret this, for some reason.. But, well. Hadn't he just quit his job because he was bored with the way his life had been going? Might as well take a few chances, or he'd NEVER turn things around!
Squaring his shoulders, he slammed the car door shut and walked around it to follow the (was she skipping?) smiling girl into her apartment building. "So.. this place is pretty nice. You live alone, don't you?" he said, shoving one hand into his pocket with an air of forced casualness.
Makoto shot him a surprised glance. "Yes. How did you know?" she asked, turning a corner and stopping in front of her door. "I didn't think I'd exactly broadcast that to the world, or anything."
"Heh... well. You girls have been coming around the arcade for years now. I think I just picked up on it, at some point or another." he said, shrugging.
Working at the Crown, he thought privately, was very much akin to working as a bartender, or maybe even a hairdresser. You eventually heard all the gossip, whether or not you were actually trying to. He knew things about some people that he'd rather not EVER think about again.
"I suppose that's true. The girls and I are there at least twice a week these days."
Makoto twisted her key in the lock, and pushed the door open. It was a good thing she kept everything so clean! Sure, the other Senshi teased her about her borderline OCD habits, but at least she didn't ever have to worry about bringing company over. In particular.. male company. She had witnessed Usagi's squealing panic attacks whenever Mamoru was supposed to come over, and she wanted no part of it.
Smiling to herself, Makoto stepped to the side and made a sweeping gesture toward the interior of her apartment. "Please, make yourself at home! I'll grab those cookies I promised and.. Ah.. Would you like anything to drink? Milk? Tea? Milk tea?" she asked, slipping out of her shoes and padding off toward the kitchen. "I can make coffee, if you'd prefer."
Motoki chuckled at her enthusiasm, and (only a little nervously, thank you very much) stepped through the door. "If it's not too much trouble, tea would be fine." he said politely, green eyes sweeping over the cozy living room he'd entered. It was spotless, and extremely feminine looking... Over all, it was a very inviting space.
On the other hand, the sheer number of potted plants in the room was a little creepy. They were everywhere he looked; in the windows, hanging from the ceiling, sitting on top of crocheted doilies on matching end tables... The girl must have a serious thing for all things green!
"No no, no problem!" Makoto called cheerfully from what he could only assume was the kitchen. "It'll be ready in just a minute. Go ahead and have a seat anywhere!"
This last statement was punctuated by the sound of water running into a tea kettle and the clink of glasses being shuffled, so Motoki decided to take his cue and.. Well, make himself as comfortable as possible. Given the extremely awkward situation, that is. He eyed the multitude of plants dubiously, and finally settled on a spot right in the center of Makoto's squashy beige couch.
Why did it feel like the house plants were WATCHING him? And just what was taking Makoto so long, anyway! A glance at the clock told him it had been an entire two minutes since she disappeared into the kitchen. How long could it take for water to boil?
Makoto, meanwhile, had left the kettle to heat on the stove and made a dash for her closet, determined to wear the first thing she laid hands on that wasn't baggy or full of holes. Thrusting one hand deep into the bowels of the closet, the other already busy tugging the borrowed dashiki over her head, she grabbed hold of something and yanked it out.
Pink, she thought incredulously, staring at the thing in her hand. Why did it have to be pink? Bad enough part of her fuku was freaking neon pink... Where had she even gotten this? She didn't remember buying any hot pink.. What WAS it, anyway? Oh, yes. That Christmas present from Minako, nearly two years ago. A tube dress. Ugh. No thanks.
Slipping the dashiki off entirely, she threw it and the scrap of material that had the audacity to call itself a dress into the corner. There had to be something else in there that would work. Anything else, really.
"This is why Minako and Rei are always trying to get me to buy new clothes," she muttered, scowling at her closet. "Black, green, black.. more green.. I bet this is what Mamoru's closet looks like..."
Giving up, she reached for the first green shirt that caught her eye and quickly pulled it on. She'd worry about her wardrobe later. For now, she had a completely hot, completely single guy waiting in her living room. This thought cheered her immensely, and she nearly skipped back into the kitchen. The last time she'd tried this with Motoki, he'd been very attached to Reika... and, well. She'd only been about fourteen years old. No wonder he hadn't been interested, really. Three years could make all the difference in her quest for True Love!
Back in the living room, Motoki was staring fixedly at the coffee table. If he didn't see them, the damn plants couldn't very well creep him out, could they? He ignored that little voice in the back of his head telling him that there was a hole in his logic. What did the voices know, anyway? Jerks.
"Sorry for the wait!" Makoto chirped from the doorway, shuffling into the room with a tray loaded down with tea and cookies.
"ARGH!" Motoki yelped, startled out of his intense examination of the furniture. Unfortunately, his sudden jerk of shock had sent him sprawling sideways off the couch, and he landed in dazed heap right in front of the surprised brunette.
Blinking, Makoto set the tray on the coffee table that her guest had found so fascinating and eyed him sceptically. "Motoki... I know I'm good looking and all, but you really don't have to throw yourself at my feet like this." she said, grinning saucily.
"Urph," he replied intelligently, the groan muffled by a mouthful of carpet.
"Er... are you all right? Do you need help getting up?" That position looked just a little painful... On the other hand, with his rear stuck up in the air like that, she had quite the view. Five stars, Motoki, she thought, smirking.
Motoki pried his face free from the floor, and pushed himself into a sitting position. "Well. That was..." he coughed slightly, "extremely embarrassing. I guess this is karma coming back to bite me for neglecting that giant water puddle in the arcade." He grinned sheepishly up at her, running a hand through his sandy-blonde hair. "I really am sorry about that, by the way! Don't er.. key my car."
Actually, until he'd brought it up, she'd completely forgotten the whole incident. Makoto's eye twitched. "Right. No keying. But if you wake up one day and it's got a bright green stripe painted skunk-style from trunk to hood, don't be too surprised." she said brightly, moving around the coffee table and plopping herself down on the floor next to it.
Ignoring his horrified look, she poured two cups of tea and gently pushed one in his direction. "Here we are! So, what were you saying about quitting your job?" she asked, smiling as she bit into a cookie.
Shaking his head to banish the image of his vandalized car from his head, he took a quick sip of his tea to give himself a moment to gather his thoughts. Mostly he just succeeded in burning his tongue. "Er.. well. I suppose I was just going crazy, being stuck in the same place for so long. Everything was just.. annoying me." He smiled dryly. "Mamoru kindly reminded me that I did, in fact, graduate from university not so very long ago, and I could, at any time, quit my crappy job for a much better paying crappy job."
"I didn't realize you'd graduated.. I don't think you ever mentioned it." Makoto said thoughtfully, brushing crumbs off of her hands. "Mamoru's right, though. If you've got the degree, use it. What did you study at university?"
"Marketing, and photography," he admitted, flushing a little. "I think when I first started I had some strange desire to be able to not only think of catchy slogans, but take exactly the right photos to go with them." Motoki shrugged awkwardly, grabbing a cookie to give his hands something to do. "Weird, I know."
Makoto smiled sunnily at him. "Actually, I think that sounds really cool. I can't say I know anything much about marketing, but it seems like a fun idea. May be hard to break into the business, though. My dreams were never so interesting as that."
"You want to start a bakery-flower shop, don't you?" he asked, grinning. "Sounds like a perfectly good dream to me. What's keeping you? If I could eat your cooking every day, I'd be ten steps closer to being the happiest man alive." Of course, he currently lived mostly on boxed lunches from the local grocer, but she didn't need to know that part.
Makoto turned so red so quickly, it was a wonder she didn't faint. That had to be the sweetest thing any boy had ever said to her... And was he maybe flirting, just a little? She hardly dared to hope.
"I..." she started to say.. and was promptly interrupted by an obnoxiously loud trill from her communicator. Oh, hell. "I.. that's.. Crap, hold that thought, Motoki!" she cried, leaping to her feet and racing down the hall into the bedroom. Tokyo had better be burning to the ground, or she was going to kill whoever was on the other end of this communication!
Yanking the offending object out of her pocket, she hit the flashing symbol of Mars and scowled as Rei appeared on the tiny screen. "What? I'm kind of busy here.." she growled impatiently.
Rei raised an eyebrow at her, obviously completely unimpressed. "Youma, about three blocks from the park. It's kind of wrecking a clothing store, so if you can take time out of your busy schedule..." she said, rolling her eyes.
Makoto groaned. It seemed so unfair that she had expended so much effort in caring and tending to the universe at large, only to find that the universe, really, didn't give a damn. "Oh for... Fine! I'll be there ASAP, keep your pants on." She stabbed the 'off' button without waiting for a reply, and high-tailed it back to the living room.
"Hey Motoki that was my.. uh, pager, I have to take care of something REAL quick but I'll be right back!" the flustered brunette cried over her shoulder, already on her way out the door.
Motoki could only stare as the door slammed shut behind her. What in the world had that been about? Well, she probably wouldn't be gone long.. and he did have an entire plate of cookies to keep him company. Shrugging, he snagged one off of the plate and had just bitten into it when he raised his eyes and caught sight of the previously forgotten house plants.
Oh hell.
~~~}{~~~
AN: ..Right, and here it is, three years later. I have no decent, valid excuse for not doing this sooner. Ahem. I will say, however, that this is the THIRD version of this chapter that I was forced to write, due to a series of computer crashes. Words cannot describe how angry I was about this. Anyway, I thank you all for your kind words, favorites, and various alerts! They really were very much appreciated. :)
~*Lady Silk*~