This is my rewrite of the Sailor Moon first season, told almost exclusively from Mamoru's POV (third person, limited).

We all know that Usa and Mamoru had crushes on each other in the first arc of the manga, but it didn't really go anywhere until after the arc ended.

Let's consider an AU where they admitted those feelings sooner and actually acted upon them. Considering Luna's and, presumably, the other senshi's lack of trust for Tuxedo Kamen (the manga was a bit wishy-washy in this regard - we'll fix that), what challenges would Usagi and Mamoru have to overcome? What would their relationship look like in the face of these challenges? How would it change their reactions to certain key events?

These are all the things I wanted to explore, while also putting my own spin on such a well-known story.

I hope you'll join me on this adventure!

Our story is set in Manga Canon with some borrowing from the anime (totally stole the 'Mamoru and Motoki are best buds' thing but aged Motoki down because that makes more sense to me than aging Mamoru up)

Chapter 1: Denial
Summary: Mamoru meets a girl with weird hair and very powerful emotions

o0o

My UsaMamo Week 2021 Day 1 contribution "Oh, Is He Your Brother?" was written with this universe in mind as I was already working on this story when I decided to join UsaMamo Week at the very last minute. However, the events of that story are not referenced at all within this one but could have occurred. If you haven't already checked out "Oh, Is He Your Brother?" and would like to do so (it is uploaded here) then I recommend reading this chapter first, then reading that story. Again, you don't have to, but the other story would fit between somewhere between this chapter and the next one.

Quick Summary: Usagi gets caught in the middle of a high school girl confessing to Mamoru while the two are hanging out at the Crown's counter
Takes place pre-Usa/Mamo dating
Theme: Frenemies
Prompt: Oh, is he your brother?

o0o

AO3 is my primary site for posting FF so you can also find me there under the same name.
I'm also on Tumblr - same name, minus the 9

Denial

He was standing outside the Osa-B jewelry store one beautiful spring afternoon planning his next move when a crumpled-up paper ball struck the dead center of his forehead. It didn't hurt, but it was annoying all the same.

Clutching the paper in his fist, he directed his ire to the culprit, a slight teenage girl standing with her back facing him, her long blond hair pulled into twin buns on either side of her head, each with a long pigtail streaming down to below her waist.

"Hey! Miss Lump-Head! Are you trying to put lumps on my head too?"

Her head jerked up with the stiffening of her shoulders and back. Spinning around, her hands lifted to her head, her fingers curling around the balls of hair. "These are buns! Buns! Not lumps!" she shrieked, a fire blazing in her bright blue eyes.

Unphased by her offended outburst, his attention returned to the offending paper, and his curiosity got the better of him. Righteous fury gave way to quiet panic as his fingers began not so carefully unfurling the edges, her embarrassment grabbing at his hands and yanking on his sleeves in a desperate attempt to reclaim the paper before he could see what was written on it.

A large 30%, written in bold red ink and twice underlined for emphasis, greeted him from the top of her English test.

Ah.

That explained it.

He removed his sunglasses to better see the girl who decided he was a trash can, staring down at her through an impassive expression. She glared daggers straight back, her scowling face flushed the deepest shade of red he's ever seen.

The corner of his mouth lifted.

She was feisty, he'd give her that.

"Study harder, Odango Atama," he said, holding the failed test out to her.

Her aura came alive with the widening of her eyes and somehow deeper flush, lashing about in a colorful burst of chaotic energy. "Mind your own business!" she shrieked, snatching the paper out of his hand.

Since he was a child, he'd been blessed (or cursed, depending on his day) with the gift of extrasensory perception. Specifically, the ability to see and feel the emotions of those around him. Even objects can whisper their history or secrets to his fingertips. As a child, this ability confused and frightened him, and many years would pass before he learned this was a form of psychometry, a phenomenon he would not believe to be real if he wasn't living it every single day.

Over the years, he managed to gain some semblance of control over it, learning how to fine-tune the intensity of the invading feelings as needed in order to function in any given situation, the act akin to adjusting the frequency on an old radio for signal clarity.

But this method had its drawbacks. The more he tuned down the external emotions, the less he himself felt and emoted. Can't have it one way without the other. This required careful balance, which he helped maintain through strategically built mental walls and defenses, rationalizing that it was difficult to get hurt if you don't let anyone, or anything, through to the most vulnerable parts of himself.

Because touch amplified his ability like a powerful antenna, he went out of his way to avoid giving and receiving unwanted touches, not caring if he was perceived to be arrogant, uninterested, uncaring, or cold; life was simply easier this way.

As he aged, it became exceedingly rare for another person's emotions to break through those carefully constructed barriers, but it did happen.

But never did it happen quite like this.

The brush of her fingers against his as she retrieved her test was brief and barely there, yet that was all it took for her powerful emotions to smash through his mental barriers and eclipse his senses until he felt nothing but her.

Her embarrassed anger shoved him away, but her attraction, flustered and warm, curled into the labels of his jacket to keep him close. Confusion lingered on the side, watching this strange battle unfold.

Around him flashed images of the bun-headed girl and who he assumed was her family and friends, too fast to really see and far too many to count.

Turning around, he found arms open to him, wide and welcoming.

This girl was well loved and has so much love to give in return.

Love.

What a strange, foreign emotion.

He wanted to learn more, to explore further, but as quick as it opened, the breach into this girl's psyche slammed shut.

His stunned eyes found her further down the sidewalk, stomping away and muttering loudly to herself about the jerk in the tuxedo. But he could only shrug. Perhaps it was strange to wear a formal tuxedo in the middle of the afternoon, but he had very important business to attend to this evening.

With one last glance at her shrinking form, his mind ran through everything he could deduce about the girl from their brief encounter.

First, she was short – her face fell in line with his chest.

Second, she was very loud - despite the increasing distance, he could still pick out an occasional word from her ongoing rant.

Third, but perhaps most important, she was bright. Blinding, even. As her light slipped further and further away, his demons crawled their way back out from wherever they had hidden themselves away within the deep recesses of his mind to avoid getting singed.

His eyes jerked back to the hand still thrumming with her energy before closing with the shake of his head and a sigh.

Oh well.

His sunglasses were replaced on his face.

He'd never seen her before today, so it was unlikely he'd ever see her again.

o0o0o0o

"We seem to bump into each other a lot, don't we Odango Atama?"

Flushing once again in annoyance at the nickname, her pouting face turned away as she accepted his help up off the sidewalk.

This was the third time she crashed into him just this week, an occurrence becoming more and more frequent in the weeks following their first meeting, and he couldn't say he was disappointed. Truth be told, he found himself looking forward to her petulant pout, the flush of her face, and the blinding flare of her aura, so these strange run-ins were probably his favorite part of his day.

Because her lively aura and expressive demeanor, so different from the strict, dull environment of the orphanage where he was raised, or the stuffy competitiveness of his school, was a sunny respite from the oppressive clouds darkening his everyday life.

Under his teasing smirks and tone, she came alive, and he lived for it, especially the resulting glare from his use of this childish nickname.

Alas, his disappointment renewed when every touch since the very first provided the expected amplified access to her emotions in the moment but lacked the revealing insight into her life. He was curious about her and the strong effect she had on his psychometry and himself, her mere presence bringing out a side of him he didn't know existed.

One he got to know a little better with each strange meeting.

Once she was steady on her feet and brushing the dirt from the back of her skirt, he turned to leave, but her sudden nervousness made him hesitate. His confused gaze returned to her face, and those bright blue eyes widened before falling away.

"Your... um… uniform…" she started, her fingers playing in the pleats of her skirt, "Are you a junior high school student like me?"

The smirk was back on his face before he could stop it. "Nope. Full-fledged high school student," he boasted, flashing his school ID as proof.

He couldn't really say what compelled him to show off on that particular afternoon, but he felt something akin to pride when she read the small print out loud, even if the fade of her curiosity into resigned annoyance probably meant she was wholly unimpressed, "Chiba Mamoru, Moto-Azabu Private High School."

His school is one of the most elite high schools in the country, and that this fact annoyed her was delightfully amusing.

Her arms crossed over the bow on her chest with a huff. "Well, Chiba Mamoru, my name is Tsukino Usagi, not 'Odango Atama.'" The disgusted face she made at the nickname pulled up a small smile on his face. "Since you somehow managed to get into such a great school, I expect you to have no trouble remembering it from this day forward."

A genuine laugh bubbled up from his throat.

She had him there.

Usagi's smile lit up her face. "Nice to finally meet you, Mamoru-kun!" she beamed, extending a slender hand out in greeting.

Mamoru regarded her with a slight tilt of his head, his features projecting his amusement. "That's a little familiar towards someone older than you whom you just met, don't you think?"

But Usagi just laughed his words away with a dismissive wave. "Of course not, Mamoru-kun! We're practically friends after all this time, so we're way past that kind of formality, don't you think?"

Her hand was extended again with renewed gusto, and he chuckled.

"Oh, of course, Usa. My mistake."

Such an informal use of her name was intended to be a one-time thing, a friendly retaliation of sorts for the familiar use of his name, but the delicate pink blush blooming on her face, coupled with the softening of her eyes, made his heart do strange things in his chest, and he decided then and there he would never use her full name.

Usagi's hand was soft and warm in his, her joy and amusement a pleasant shock against his palm. "So," he drawled, "will you be running into me again tomorrow?"

Her boisterous laugh echoed in his ears the rest of the afternoon.

o0o0o0o

"Mamoru-kun!"

Blinking up from his book, he turned around.

Usagi barreled up beside him and stopped to catch her breath, her face red in the unusual warmth of this early-May day. Her hair buns were just out of place and her clothes disheveled from her run.

"Uh…" Mamoru took off his reading glasses to buy himself some time and cleared his throat. "Usa, are you o-"

"Good morning!" Usagi gasped out between panting breaths. "You walk pretty fast! Must be those long legs. I wasn't sure I would be able to catch you."

Mamoru's brow furrowed. "Catch me? Why?"

"To walk to school together, of course!" she said as if it were obvious.

He still didn't understand. "But why?"

All bright with her assured confidence a moment ago, her aura dimmed with her sudden uncertainty. "Well, I… is that OK? I find the walk to school can be a little lonely sometimes, and now that we're friends, I thought we could keep each other company."

Friends?

Out of sheer curiosity and nothing else, Mamoru looked up her school using the description of her uniform after one of their first meetings, so he already knew she attended Juuban Middle School. Plotting out their respective routes in his head based on where she just ran from, he realized their paths to school only interlap a little. Why would she go to such trouble for such a short walk?

But he took in her wide, hopeful eyes shifting between his, her tight grip on the handle of her bag in one hand and the half-eaten toast in the other. Her attraction to him simmered just beneath the surface, but something else appeared to be motivating her actions, and he couldn't help but be a little curious…

"Sure," he finally said, his small smile purely for her benefit, "but as you observed, I walk fast, so try to keep up, ok?"

Her smile was blinding. "Ok!"

Matching his stride to hers came far more naturally than he expected, but the few times he did pull ahead, Usagi was quick to catch up. Neither spoke much at first, which was fine by him, but her nervous excitement must have gotten the better of her.

"What's your favorite food?" she blurted out.

His brow furrowed again. "Food?"

"Yea!" Her confidence was back, and her aura shined with it. "Mine's cake! And ice cream. And well…" A finger pressed to her mouth. "Probably anything sweet, really." Her face turned back up to his. "What's yours?"

A hand lifted to the back of his head, his fingernails scratching against his scalp as he fought against the warmth heating up his face. "Well, if I had to pick something…" Originally planning to provide a generic response to her unusual question, the earnestness in her answer made him reconsider. "I guess I'd have to say chocolate."

"Chocolate?" The stretch of her smile was slow but very wide and delighted. "I never would have guessed that! You strike me as a savory food kind of guy."

He shrugged. "There probably isn't anything I don't like, but yes, chocolate is my favorite."

"I don't like carrots," Usagi said, wrinkling her nose, "but that's probably the only thing."

"A rabbit that doesn't like carrots." He chuckled, the sound low and rumbling. "Never thought I'd see the day."

"I knoooooow!" she lamented. "My brother even calls me a human garbage disposal because I'll eat anything, but I just can't with carrots. Bleh."

A human garbage disposal?

An image of Usagi shoveling food into her mouth appeared in his mind unbidden.

Who is this girl?

Pressing the back of his fingers to his mouth to hide his amused smile, Mamoru cleared his throat. "It's a shame you don't like carrots," he said, "they're supposed to be good for your eyes." His lip quirked up at her confused head tilt. "You know, to help you see where you're going?"

Her eyes widened with the flush of her cheeks as the meaning behind his words washed over her. "Hey!" she screeched, her aura flaring with embarrassment and frustration, "I haven't crashed into you that many times!"

His eyebrow rose, and she glared at it. Hard. "Shut up," she grumbled, her red face dropping down towards the sidewalk.

They reached the crossroads to their respective schools, and Mamoru suddenly doubted himself. Did he take his teasing too far? This girl was still a mystery to him, and he wasn't sure how to interact with her, why he felt the need to tease her so, her adorable reactions aside, nor why he couldn't seem to help himself.

But Usagi was all bright smiles and relaxed posture, any embarrassment long gone.

"Bye, Mamoru-kun! Have a great day, ok?" She turned around but stopped halfway. "See you tomorrow?"

This time, Mamoru's smile, though small, was genuine. "If you don't run into me before then."

Her exasperated glare kept that smile on his face all the way to school.

o0o

After that, Mamoru saw Usagi just about every day.

She was a consistent presence in his life, a curiosity yes, but consistent. The mornings she didn't oversleep found her belting out his name at the very top of her lungs to get his attention as she ran to catch up. This had the unfortunate consequence of attracting the attention of anyone unfortunate enough to be within earshot.

That attention embarrassed him at first. He was the quiet, blend-in-the-background-and-hope-one-one-notices-me type, but Usagi didn't seem to mind it, and, eventually, neither did he. Maybe everyone on their path to school simply grew used to it, or perhaps he did.

Regardless, just as he came to look forward to their regular run-ins, he looked forward to her exuberant presence brightening his morning, even if just that little bit.

"I'm sorry I'm so late," she gasped, hunched over the sidewalk to catch her breath, "Overslept again."

His head tilted down at her. "Usa, would it make it easier if we just designated a place to meet up instead of you hunting me down each morning?"

Her face shot up, sweaty and flushed. "Really?"

At his nod, an illuminating smile broke out on her face, and her cheeks pinked with it. "That would be amazing!"

Her aura danced about her with glee, and he allowed himself to bask in the warmth of it for just a moment.

"-in case."

Averting his gaze, Mamoru slid a hand into his hair. "I'm sorry, Usa, I missed that."

Her blush turned red as her smile turned shy. "I was just suggesting that I give you my number, just in case, for days like today when I oversleep."

Because he is an idiot, Mamoru simply replied, "I don't own a cell phone."

Usagi's shy smile fell with the tilt of her head. "You don't? Why not?"

"Because landlines still exist?" He shrugged. "I already have a perfectly good phone at home. Besides, being connected to people all the time sounds exhausting."

"Mamoru-kun!" Usagi stamped her foot in exasperation. "You need to have a cell phone! What if your family or friends need to reach you when you aren't home?"

His grip on his satchel tightened, his knuckles turning white. "Hasn't been an issue yet."

She didn't appear to notice his change in tone. "Well, I'm giving you my number anyway. You know, for emergencies."

A pen was unceremoniously ripped from her satchel, but Usagi was in his personal space holding his hand palm side down before he had time to realize she didn't also grab paper.

He couldn't believe the gall of this girl, to write her number on the back of his hand instead of simply asking him for something to write on. But the scratches of the pen as she wrote, along with the press of her fingers into his hand, shot warm tingles up his arm.

He decided to let it be.

"There."

Usagi stepped back to admire her handiwork.

Her number was written in a sloppy scribble and signed with a small bunny face.

As he stared down at her number, that strange fluttering feeling in his chest returned, and he had to resist the urge to press his hand against it. "Uh, thanks..."

Her face lighting up, Usagi responded with a sing-song lilt, "You're welcome!"

It didn't dawn on him until later that he hadn't given her his number in return.

o0o

Usagi always did the lion's share of the talking, speaking in a fast and excited manner, complete with gesturing hands and varying volumes, as she shared everything about herself: her family, her many friends, her love of Crown Game Center and all things food (except carrots). Mamoru was content to listen, basking in her warm brightness and enjoying the press of her aura and the emotions it conveyed: her joy and optimism, her enthusiasm and overall zest for life.

It was so different from his own dark, self-deprecating, introverted thoughts and feelings.

He came to yearn for it, so drawn to her as a moth to a flame, wishing she would grab his hand again, or his arm, something, just so he could better read and experience emotions warmer and more inviting than his and those of his demons.

Sometimes, he wondered what it would be like to actually experience life as she did, so open and carefree.

When she expressed just how much she disliked school, he couldn't contain his laugh. School was probably the only area he had her beat.

"You already know how much I love English," she muttered, wrinkling her nose. "I'm not much better with math." Her expression turned contemplative as a delicate finger tapped on her chin. "Actually, I might be worse at math..."

"Really?" he chuckled. "And here I was thinking you couldn't possibly be much worse at math than you are at English."

"Shut up," she grumbled, sticking out her tongue. "What do you know?"

"More than you about Math and English, apparently," he drawled. He had to bite back a grin from her childish, yet totally adorable, gesture. "I enjoy both very much, but I especially like math. It's the universal language!"

Usagi released an overly dramatic and exaggerated sigh. "And I'd bet my entire allowance you're amazing at both." When the familiar smirk pulled up one side of his mouth, she shook her head. "Why am I not surprised?"

His warm chuckle brought a smile to Usagi's face.

That smile, accentuated by a soft pink blush, stayed with him the rest of the day.

o0o

During their walks, Mamoru was constantly amazed by just how breathtakingly clumsy she was, and he was repeatedly asking himself how she made it through fourteen years of life without sustaining any serious injury.

The stumbles both up and down the curb, over obvious cracks in the sidewalk; crashing into fixed light poles or trash cans.

If she were navigating unfamiliar terrain, he'd chalk it up to natural clumsiness, but she knew these streets, knew the people they saw nearly every morning by name and they her. Having lived in the same house for all her fourteen years of life and currently attending her second year of junior high school, it was reasonable to assume she had walked these sidewalks for at least a year before throwing her failed test in his face.

Yet she stumbled over the same cracks and curbs, crashed into the same trash cans and light poles. Not every day, but with enough frequency he was genuinely concerned. At first, he thought this was either some sort of strange joke or a bit he just didn't get, but when it kept happening, he realized, no, she actually is this clumsy.

Her clumsiness was not helped by the way she would become so deeply engaged in their conversations that she appeared to lose all spatial awareness. Instead of developing a kind of learned automation to avoid these minor obstacles, she tripped.

Multiple times.

But she didn't always fall. Flailing her arms and adjusting her feet as she lurched forward was often enough to correct her center of gravity, but the times this didn't work, she crashed to the ground with a screech followed by a pained yelp.

At first, his disbelief that this was happening again kept him acting, so he could only react afterwards with a show of concern and an outstretched hand. Gradually, the concern morphed into a teasing smirk and a drawled, "What are we going to do with you, Odango Atama?"

He lived for the resulting glare, a mix of annoyance and embarrassment - the former directed at him for the nickname, the latter at herself for the fall - plus something else he couldn't quite figure out when she'd finally place her small hand in his to be assisted up.

Only when he realized this was just an aspect of who she was and that it wasn't going to stop anytime soon did he dare steady her himself. A well-timed hand to her shoulder, both to her waist if the situation was particularly precarious, was all it took to keep her upright.

No matter the touch, be it the steadying hand or the assistance to stand, she became so adorably flustered that he couldn't decide which reaction he preferred.

o0o

He'd been right about her having many friends.

She spoke of them often, of their talents and skills; of their importance in her life.

There were her friends Naru and Umino, who apparently had crushes on each other but were completely oblivious to the other's feelings. She had thrown her hands up in exasperation. "Why won't they just tell each other how they feel already?!"

Mamoru couldn't help but relate to her two clueless friends. That inability to open yourself up, to expose yourself and be vulnerable with someone, was something he knew all too well. If they were anything like him, the uncertainty of the other person's feelings was far safer than the finality of rejection, about which he suspected Usagi worried very little.

But he immediately regretted suggesting this possibility to Usagi because her shoulders sagged at the thought. "But they would be so great together."

But Usagi was a risk taker that way, keeping her true self open to those around her, never hesitating to reach out to try to form a connection with another person. Just as she had with him.

He very much envied that part of her.

Next came Ami, the blue-haired genius who always got the top scores at their school. Due to Usagi's influence, Ami discovered her natural talent for the Sailor V arcade game. Usagi was quite proud of that. "She hopes to be a doctor someday, Mamoru-kun, just like you!"

The Shinto priestess Rei came later, a psychic with the ability to read and divine fires. She lived in a beautiful old shrine with her grandfather and two pet crows. "They're very cute, for crows, I mean. One of them let me pet it once. Did you know crows are super smart?"

And lastly, Makoto, a tough girl with a gentle soul who also happened to be an excellent baker and cook. "Seriously, you haven't experienced dessert until you've tried one of Mako-chan's treats. She's amazing! And sometimes she shares her lunch with me, which is great because I forget mine all the time."

Usagi also mentioned the time Makoto saved her from a speeding car she was too tired one morning to notice. It was how they met, she said.

She had blamed her inattention that particular morning on a weird dream. She was having a lot of that at the time. "I still am, actually," she corrected. A far away expression dimmed her normally bright blue eyes as her mind took her somewhere far away. But with a quick shake of her head, she was back, dismissing her dream as silly, girlish nonsense with a laugh and a wave of her hand.

Mamoru didn't tell her that he had strange dreams too.

Night after night, he dreamt of a young woman whose face he could not see begging him to find the Maboroshi no Ginzuishou, whatever that was. A shaky hand ran through his hair as he recalled the countless late nights spent wandering all of Tokyo scoping out and breaking into jewelry stores searching for it, only to join forces with the mysterious Sailor Senshi in order to prevent the Dark Kingdom's generals from obtaining it themselves.

o0o

This morning, Usagi was bouncing with joy. Yesterday, she finally beat her high score on the Sailor V game at Crown, and Motoki, one of the employees she explained, treated her to a chocolate shake as a reward.

"Oh, I know Motoki, Usa, he's a friend of mine. We attend Azabu together." No sooner had Mamoru finished his statement than he was immediately startled by Usagi's abrupt squeal of delight that they FINALLY shared something in common.

Her fingers and joy were warm through the fabric of both his uniform shirt and blazer. "Toki-onii-chan is like my big brother!" Through a delighted smile, she explained that their parents have been friends for years, so she, along with her younger brother Shingo, grew up with Motoki and his younger sister Unazuki.

He wanted to be surprised by this, but the more he thought about it, the more it made sense.

The two were so similar, so bright and expressive, their hearts carried on their sleeves.

Motoki slowly integrated himself into Mamoru's life with far more care and finesse than Usagi after the two found themselves involuntarily assigned together for a group project in middle school. As with Usagi, Mamoru was cautious, needing to be certain of Motoki's intentions before truly letting him in. This took almost two years.

Somehow, Motoki saw right through Mamoru's hesitancy and bided his time. Mamoru was never really certain what Motoki saw in him, but he was glad for it. He deeply treasured their friendship, even if he wasn't the best at expressing it.

But this Mamoru did not share with Usagi.

Instead, Mamoru harkened back to middle school, when he met and got to know Motoki. Usagi listened with rapt attention, clutching her satchel to her chest, her blue eyes wide with wonder and anticipation. Mamoru had to look away to hide his own blush.

Afterwards, they took turns sharing funny anecdotes involving Motoki, and it wasn't long before Usagi was holding her sides and snorting with laughter.

"Mamoru-kun," she giggled, turning those too blue eyes up to him, "tell me about your famil- oh! uh... um..." An embarrassed flush bloomed on her face as she cut herself off and looked away, and she was quick to change the subject.

A slip up.

He was so tuned in to Usagi, basking in her exuberance and her joy, but as her emotions were amplified so too were his, and she'd just gotten a glimpse of a true, conflicted emotion, something he did not show other people.

And now their fun, lighthearted moment was ruined because he'd been too slow to school his face.

Keeping his face forward, Mamoru slid his eyes over to Usagi. She continued on with her new topic as if nothing was wrong, as if she didn't just ask about the one topic he simply does not discuss; as if she didn't see the raw pain in his features (which he was certain she misconstrued as something else) before he could hide it away behind his mask.

But her gaze was glued to the sidewalk, her smile forced. Realizing she had moved away from his side, no doubt pulled away by the guilt and confusion lining every inch of her slumped form, he struggled to swallow down his own lump of guilt.

He wanted to take it all back, to tell her she didn't do anything wrong, but to do so meant revealing a part of himself he was just not willing to share.

In the end, the two continued on as they were: Usagi awkwardly talking, Mamoru only half listening, both swathed in guilt.

That lump was still stuck in his throat the next morning when he anxiously awaited Usagi at their meeting place, his heart breaking with each passing minute.

Of course she wasn't coming, and he tried to convince himself this was how it should be. Usagi caught an unintentional glimpse into the real him, and it scared her away. A natural reaction to seeing such pain.

This is precisely why he didn't like to get too close to people. He was simply too damaged to form any meaningful connections. Motoki would just have to remain the only exception.

With a resigned sigh, Mamoru pushed off the wall to begin his lonely walk to school. But on his third step, his psychometry flared with relieved excitement, and he turned around to find Usagi trudging up behind him, her feet dragging, head down, and shoulders slumped.

She exuded a kind of quiet melancholy he didn't think she was capable of experiencing.

It was not only wrong, it was all his fault.

"Look, Usa-"

"About yest-"

Embarrassed, the two fell into an awkward silence, but Usagi was quick to charge through it. "I'm sorry for whatever I said yesterday," she rushed out. His startled gaze found her studiously staring down at her feet, kicking at a small pebble with the toe of her shoe. "I didn't mean to upset you."

He was struck by her sincerity, but that she felt the need to apologize at all for his mistake made him hate himself all the more. "No... Usa, you didn't. It's... I..." A nervous hand ran through his hair. He just wasn't sure how to explain his reaction yesterday; how to make this strange awkwardness go away so they could go back to how they were.

But her small hand was suddenly on his arm, her bright blue eyes gazing up at him through her lashes. Her smile projected some kind of understanding Mamoru didn't even understand.

There was something unsettling about her gaze, as if she saw something in him he couldn't see in himself. His heart did that funny thing in his chest again, catching his breath.

"OK." Just like that, her guilt was gone, Mamoru could feel the overwhelming sense of relief flowing through her. Before he could savor that comforting warmth, her fingers curled into the crook of his arm and tugged him along. "Come on, Mamoru-kun! We're really late!"

He was surprised by his disappointment when she let go.

o0o

He started to notice the change in Usagi around the time Ami joined her ever increasing circle of friends.

It wasn't every day, but there were mornings she walked a little slower, her shoulders fell a little lower, and the brightness of her light glowed a little dimmer.

It was on those days she carried so much self-doubt, speaking in broad terms about her inability to properly contribute, of holding others back; feeling like she was letting her friends down. She never elaborated further so it was difficult to formulate a proper response, and he was certain everything he said came off as trite, unhelpful platitudes.

He couldn't imagine what could cause this crisis of confidence. All of their conversations up until then had made him certain she was the most self-assured person he'd ever met, yet another thing he had so envied about her because he carried so much doubt in himself.

The next day, she would be back to her usual bright and animated self, as if the previous day's loss of confidence hadn't happened.

But Mamoru remembered.

o0o

When she started no-showing in the mornings, Mamoru initially brushed it off, assuming she was oversleeping again, but the day he departed their meeting place accompanied only by his disappointment and caught her flanked by two of her friends, her sleek black cat with the peculiar crescent-shaped bald spot on its forehead riding on a shoulder as the group walked and laughed together, he could no longer ignore what his heart knew to be the truth.

Their mornings together had come to an end.

That realization hurt more than he expected. People came in and out of his life with little to no consequence all the time, but Usagi was different, and he was having trouble admitting to himself why that was.

The sky opened as he watched them leave, but Usagi's screech that she forgot her umbrella followed by Makoto's laughed offer to share hers managed to put a small, sad smile on his face. Of course Usagi would forget her umbrella during Rainy Season.

At least the dreary weather matched his mood.

Several mornings passed before he saw her again. She raced up to him, all out of sorts and out of breath. He was reminded of their earlier encounters, before they had a designated meeting place, and it made him smile, just a little.

Usagi offered no smile in return, not even an out of breath greeting. Only apology and regret.

"I'm so sorry, Mamoru-kun," she gasped, her gaze fixed on her shoes, "but I have to walk with Ami-chan and Mako-chan in the mornings now. School stuff, you know? I'm sorry I couldn't tell you sooner."

While her excuse wasn't entirely truthful, there was genuine remorse in it, so he let it go with a murmured, "I understand."

And when her blue eyes finally lifted to his, filled to the brim with her sadness and regret, he had to bite his tongue so he wouldn't ask her why, though he was dying to know.

Why end their morning walks if they meant something to her too?

This experience with Usagi was as confusing as it was foreign, and he was equally perplexed by the exact nature of his feelings for her. No amount of studying and schoolwork could resolve the intense ache those feelings created within his chest.

That day, as he watched her go, her head down and shoulders slumped, Mamoru thought back to their discussions about her two clueless friends, and he couldn't help but wonder if they ever confessed their feelings.

Her phone number remained as he left it after he transferred it to a far more sensible sheet of paper: unused and burning a hole in his satchel.

o0o

The game center wasn't his scene yet here he was, sitting on the last stool at the end of the counter because Crown is where Usagi spent most the majority of her afternoons.

He'd never admit this, of course, so Mamoru aligned his days with Motoki's work schedule to give himself a believable excuse.

Motoki nearly tripped over himself in surprise the first time Mamoru asked to accompany him to Crown after school, but he smiled his trademark Motoki-smile and gave an enthusiastic "about time!"

Usagi spotted him the instant she arrived, all shock and elation, and bounced up to him in that excited way she had. "Mamoru-kun! What brings you here?"

Days had passed since he'd last seen that smile, so he allowed himself a moment to revel in it before answering with his pre-planned lie. "I decided it was time to finally check out Motoki-kun's family's arcade. You spoke so highly of it, after all."

She was positively beaming, but before she could respond, the chime of Crown's doors signaled the arrival of her friends. After a quick "It's good to see you!" she was gone, bouncing away the same way she came.

Motoki approached the counter from the other side just as she left, his eyes falling to Mamoru when Usagi scooted into the booth she shared with her friends. "How do you know Usagi-chan?"

Before answering, Mamoru observed Motoki for any signs that he suspected the true reason for Mamoru's visit. Motoki's posture was open and relaxed, his aura reflecting nothing more than his own brand of genial curiosity.

"Oh, she's run into me a few times," he said with a shrug.

Motoki walked away laughing. "Yea, that sounds like Usagi."

o0o

The arcade is a hub, a meeting place, for teens and young adults alike. On busy afternoons, the emotions of its patrons edged towards overwhelming, what with the passion or anger towards the games; the joy, excitement, and love from meeting with friends or significant others; sadness or frustration when commiserating with them over fried food or dessert.

But Mamoru enjoyed his time despite all of that, for once preferring the chaotic energy and noise of other people instead of the silent, lonely emptiness that was his apartment or the school library.

The afternoons Usagi and her friends visited Crown were spent crammed together into a booth near the windows, laughing and talking, drinking shakes or fruit sodas, sometimes sharing food. They were often loud but not disruptive, the din of the games and other patrons drowning out most of their conversations.

Their auras stood apart from the rest, revealing the strength of their friendship but also the nondescript sense of shared duty which bound them. This type of a bind was unlike anything he'd ever sensed, but the moment his curiosity finally got the better of him and he mentally reached out for a closer look, the black-haired girl – Rei – snapped her head in his direction, her eyes immediately boring into his back. The other girls were instantly alarmed, their conversation derailing to ask her what was wrong.

Rei's discerning violet eyes prodded as her mind quested for answers. A cold sweat broke out from the sheer effort required to keep her out, the whole endeavor was the height of foolishness from the very start.

It wasn't like he didn't know about the girl's psychic abilities - Usagi was quite vocal about her friends and their talents - but he was too confident, and that made him careless.

Her eyes left as quick as they came. With a relieved sigh it was over, a shaking hand lowered the cup of coffee he'd been sipping in an attempt to appear nonchalant.

Several minutes passed before he dared glance their way again, and ocean blue was immediately greeted by blazing violet.

He was extremely careful not to use his psychometry around Rei again.

o0o0o0o

"Um...Excuse me... Mamoru-san?"

He closed his book and his eyes with a quiet, resigned sigh.

Damn.

With deliberate slowness, he turned around to face the blushing brunette, using that time to remove his reading glasses and school his face.

Here we go.

He knew the girl about to confess to him, though not well; had worked with her during a recent collaborative function between their two schools.

Her attraction to him that day had been incredibly annoying: giggling softly, constantly trying to touch his arm, suggestive smiles. By the end of the event, she was so attached he had to practically peel her off him. She was intelligent, he'd give her that, had great attention to detail. Despite everything, she was a very productive member of the team, but he found her exhausting and her aura too clingy.

Motoki's teasing smirks had done nothing to ease his foul mood.

Her confession was directed to her fidgeting hands, her cheeks turning a deeper shade of pink with each word: how honored she was to be assigned to his group that day; just how much she enjoyed working with him; how awed she was by his brilliance.

He fought the urge to roll his eyes at the last one. He was always just a handsome face or a brilliant mind.

But it was her insistence that he must like her too that had him stymied, so much so that he scarcely heard the dreaded, "Will you go out with me?"

He always went out of his way to avoid this very thing, but she was so certain of it - that certainty brushed against his cheek like a caress, a beckoning.

Why?

His mind flew through every encounter with this girl, every exchange, and his heart dropped into his stomach like hot lead when he found it.

This girl had broken the comfortable working silence with a story completely unrelated to the task at hand, and while everyone else half listened out of politeness, interjecting here or there as appropriate, Mamoru's uninterested mind began to wander, and when it inevitably stumbled upon Usagi, it lingered.

Usa would hate this project, he remembered thinking to himself. Too much math and not nearly enough eating.

In fact, they had worked through lunch to ensure there would be enough time to not only finish their work, but to review it with a fine-tooth comb. A once-and-done kind of girl when it came to anything schoolwork related, if she even bothered with it at all, Usagi would have despised everything about it.

As he pictured her indignation and the pout which would no doubt grace her face at the very idea of skipping an opportunity to eat in favor of schoolwork, he smiled and chuckled to himself, a genuinely warm smile despite himself, despite his frustration at his work partner and her clingy attraction and inability to keep her hands to herself.

But this girl did not know that his laugh and that smile were not for her.

How could she?

She must have thought…

Damn it.

The needling prick of her nervous anxiety thrust his mind back present and served as a harsh reminder that she was still awaiting his answer. Her friends held themselves back, huddling together in a show of support and hope.

When Mamoru took a deep breath, her eyes and smile brightened, only to dim the moment he started to speak.

She did not take his rejection well.

When her anxious hope shifted to embarrassed anger, Mamoru braced himself for the hurt about to be hurled his way.

Just like the others, she did not disappoint.

"I didn't want to think the rumors were true." Her voice was even and cold. "Honestly, I think I convinced myself that those rumors had to have been made up by girls who didn't really know you. They describe you as someone cold and unfeeling; as someone who would sooner break a heart than accept one.

"But I realize now that I just misunderstood the rumors. It isn't that you aren't capable of feeling, but that you use it to instill false hope. How many other girls have you reeled in with your handsome face and warm smile? Do you take some kind of perverse pleasure in leading girls on so you can later break their hearts?"

She didn't give him a chance to answer, not that he would have anyway. He maintained his impassive expression as she continued.

"You must, considering the sheer number. You are cruel, Chiba Mamoru," she seethed, "to lead girls on the way you do. I was a fool to think you liked me; I understand that now. But now I also understand that you are incapable of loving anyone other than yourself. If you don't change your ways, 'yourself' is all you'll have left to love, if you're even capable of it."

She moved to turn around but stopped halfway and leveled him with one last glare. "But maybe that's what you prefer."

And then she was gone, her head held high when she walked through her group of stunned friends, all of whom had to sprint to catch up when she kept going.

He watched her go through that same impassive expression.

He knew the rumors.

He knew them all too well.

He was Chiba Mamoru, Breaker of Hearts.

'An unfair title,' he'd argue if anyone bothered to ask.

He didn't owe any of these girls anything; wasn't responsible for managing their feelings.

And yet, all the blame for their broken hearts and hurt feelings was placed squarely on his shoulders.

Incapable of loving anyone but himself?

He snorted.

He wished he was capable of loving himself.

Still, her words pricked the hidden reaches of his heart, the part of himself where he dared not dwell.

Because he was afraid to learn she was right.

What if he wasn't capable of love?

Is he even capable of loving someone the way they needed? Or deserved?

He was used to quiet solitude.

It was familiar.

It was safe.

But is that what he wanted?

Taking a deep, resigned sigh, Mamoru shook his head and rolled out his shoulders. While he wasn't sure solitude was what he wanted for his life, it was what he needed at this moment.

He turned back around to resume his walk home, his book tucked away under his arm along with his satchel, and nearly crashed into a very distracted and very irate Tsukino Usagi.

Her aura flickered about her like the flames of an inferno, his skin burning where the edges danced and licked.

He took a wary step back.

This was different from the offended angry outburst which marked their first meeting, or her frustration when he chose to call her 'Odango Atama' instead of her given name.

No.

Usagi was feeling pure, unadulterated rage.

Dread unfurled in his chest in the same careless manner he had unfurled her failed test.

This anger could only be directed at him, right? Because he broke that girl's heart?

And just like that, his demons were on the offensive, fomenting self-doubt and engaging in a relentless barrage of verbal abuse.

'Say goodbye to Usagi,' they whispered. 'Now that she knows the truth about you, there is absolutely no chance she'd ever want you. No one wants you; they only want what they think you can offer them. But she now knows that it's all a facade, and she'll leave you, just as everyone leaves you. Never forget your place.'

"She's wrong, you know."

Her words cut through the haze of his mind like a ray of sunlight, and his demons backed off to avoid it, granting him a temporary reprieve. But then her hand squeezed his forearm like a vise, and her conviction burned them away.

There would be more - there were always more - but, for now, he was free.

"Mamoru-kun." Her eyes were hard, harder than he'd ever seen them - than he thought possible from her - but they were adamant, brooking no room for argument. "She's WRONG."

Unable to swallow down the lump in his throat, Mamoru could only respond with a staggering nod.

She was called away by one of her other friends, a girl with a blue hair ribbon tied at the crown of her short red hair, her hand held by a boy with spiky brown hair wearing the thickest glasses Mamoru had ever seen.

His eyes followed Usagi as she walked to join them, not caring he was obviously staring, and he continued to watch her until she was out of sight.

It wasn't until later, after he locked himself away within the quiet comfort of his apartment, that he realized those teens were the Naru and Umino of her old stories, the two hapless friends who had exasperated Usagi with their inability to confess their feelings.

While Naru had called out to Usagi with a wide smile and steady wave of her arm, Umino watched Naru like a love-struck fool who simply couldn't believe his luck. The two exuded the kind of naïve, optimistic infatuation that could only be found in young teenagers.

The now familiar ache flared in his chest, pulsing in time with the still-present warmth where Usagi had grabbed his arm, and Mamoru frowned.

The instant his fingers rubbed that warmth on his arm, her words echoed in his ear as if she were standing right beside him to whisper them there herself. 'She's wrong, you know.'

He wanted that too.

For the first time in his life, he not only wanted it, he yearned for it.

That thought was as liberating as it was terrifying. Not once has he ever reciprocated the feelings of the girls confessing to him. He wasn't just uninterested, he was afraid; afraid of being vulnerable with someone, of revealing his deepest secrets and fears. Plus, there was that concern about being capable of loving someone in the way they deserved.

But then Usagi hit him in the face both literally with a failed test and figuratively with her emotions; emotions so unapologetically strong they broke through his carefully crafted barriers; emotions so open and welcoming they pulled him in without hesitation.

Those emotions gave him hope for the very first time.

He still wasn't sure he could do it.

But, for Usagi, he wanted to try.

Because Usagi made him want to feel again.