I know it's been a while. Sorry for the million year delay but here's a new chapter finally! WOOHOO!

(Standard disclaimer: I do not own any of the Sailor Moon characters of which I am writing about. This story is an original that I wrote for fun and without compensation. All characters belong to Naoko Takeuchi.)

Two More Weeks

Chapter 17

Last Chance

*Motoki*

"The next thing I know, I let her go and she spins and bumps into the table behind us. A few flutes fall, but the whole DNA sequence ice sculpture hits the ground and breaks in half. Everyone stops and stares at us as we apologize to Setsuna, but she says it's fine and the groom even makes a joke about it. It was just Reika that was pissed. She still hasn't talked to me."

"Hm."

He'd filled Mamoru in on all that happened to him the past twenty-four hours from the wedding and all its details, to the reception party he'd surprisingly enjoyed with Mina. Mamoru had listened quietly the entire time, even taking the news of his long lost ex suddenly reappearing with his typical amount of detachment.

"That was my weekend, which started off shitty because of you, in case you didn't realize." He set his drink down. "Bringing Cass to dinner was the stupidest thing you've ever done."

"Believe me, I know."

"What happened?" His heart pounded just asking. "What did you say that got her so mad?"

"Nothing." Mamoru took a sip from his cup. "You know how she is."

He didn't believe him, but he wasn't all that keen in learning what the trigger could have been. His brain was still scrambled from hearing Cass yell over the phone; he didn't think he could handle the truth.

"And Usagi? Anything new with her?"

"Not that I would know."

Mamoru preoccupied himself with staring out the window. They were in a small restaurant by the water and the sky was bright, the waves calm—not at all how Mamoru was feeling. Mamoru was mad, years of interaction told him so, but the reason wasn't clear.

"Why aren't you talking? Something wrong?"

"Nothing." Mamoru pushed his plate away. "Are you done?" Mamoru summoned the waitress and paid in cash, which usually meant he was in a rush.

"You leaving?" he asked when Mamoru looked about ready to spring from his seat. After noticing his expression, Mamoru settled into his chair again, sighing.

"Cass isn't talking to me. Fix that."

"Me?" he asked, "I have to fix her not talking to you?" He laughed bitterly. "I think I have to worry about myself here." They watched as the waiter cleared their plates. "So tell me about you and Usagi." Mamoru tilted back in his chair, stretched out and yawned.

"Same old story."

"I don't believe you."

"Yeah, well…" He shrugged indifferently. Mamoru folded his napkin, not saying anything more.

"Clearly you don't feel like talking." He picked up his phone from the table and prepared to go. He had run out of energy to continue the forced conversation and it was too early in the morning to allow Mamoru's mood rub off on him. "We'll catch up some other time."

"Tonight," Mamoru said. "We'll go out like we used to."

"On a Monday night?" he asked skeptically, retaking his seat.

"Why not? You have somewhere else to be?"

He didn't even have to think about it. He was down.

"Sure, why not?" He played it cool, but he was excited. "It's not like Reika can get angrier." Mamoru gave him a pathetic look and it annoyed him enough to wish he weren't eager to hang out.

When Mamoru suggested they go somewhere unpopular he was relieved. It hadn't been just the two of them in a long time and while girls were fun, they weren't always necessary. Mamoru could be a blast if the conditions were right. He crossed his fingers for the perfect storm.

"Let's get fucked up." He pumped himself up at the thought. "Forget about everything."

The hint of a grin passed Mamoru's face and the slow nod solidified it. They shared a look as their thoughts headed in the same direction and he knew tonight was going to have potential. More than the idea of them hanging out, it was the familiarity of the moment that reminded him of old times. He was glad Mamoru had made the suggestion. It was just what they needed to return to where they used to be.

*Motoki*

After Mamoru was summoned back to the office by Kunzite, he decided on an afternoon stroll. Though he was on the opposite side of town than where he normally hung out, he was more than familiar with his surroundings. He walked and walked until he was in front of Cass's sisters place, the Ayakashi central hub. Cass didn't exactly live here, but it had been her parents' home and where she spent most of her time with her sisters. He went entered without a second thought, the doorman waving him along as if expecting him.

It wasn't until the elevator came to a stop that the full force of what he was doing dawned on him. If not Cass herself, he was hoping Bertie would be the one to open the door. That would be the best chance otherwise at reaching Cass. He and Bertie had always gotten along and she would let him wait inside if necessary, as would Prisma. Avery would slam the door in his face. He crossed his fingers for the right sister. He held his breath as the elevator door opened.

"What are you doing here?" Sapphire snapped.

Sapphire stood with his arms crossed, feet firmly planted on the ground ready to stop him should he step into the hallway. Motoki cursed to himself. He had completely forgotten to factor him in.

"Cass?" He didn't know what to say. Sapphire always made him nervous.

"She's not here."

"I need to talk to her."

"No you don't."

"I-"

"What do you have to say?" Sapphire stood much too close for him to want to be truthful, nor would he dare lie.

"I need to talk to her." He straightened up. "It's important."

"She's not here and if you won't relay the message you're wasting your time." Sapphire stuck his chin out. "Leave."

Sapphire's hand was on the intercom, his finger hovering over the button that would call security. Having no other choice, Motoki reluctantly stepped away from the elevator sensors. He hadn't thought this through. He wasn't trying to make a scene. He'll find another way to talk to Cass, with or without Sapphire's permission.

Just as his doors were closing, the second elevator arrived and he heard her voice waft out into the hallway. With less than an inch clearance, he stuck his fingers between the closing doors and was relieved they registered in time. He jumped out the elevator and as soon as Cass saw him she stopped talking. Diamond, whom was exiting the elevator directly behind her, gave him a curt nod before resuming his conversation. Rubeus walked past without so much as a glance.

It wasn't until both Bertie and Wiseman emerged behind Rubeus that he realized he was interrupting a family gathering. Wiseman frowned when he noticed him.

"Don't tell me that son of a bitch Mamoru is here, too. Don't I get any say in who gets invited to my own party?"

"Don't say that," Bertie scolded Wiseman when she saw him. She was holding in her laugher. "I'm sure Motoki is only here to wish you a happy birthday. Right Motoki?" She smiled as she helped Wiseman step into the apartment. He nodded weakly. Wiseman scoffed and shuffled into the foyer following Diamond and Rubeus.

"I don't understand why you're still here." Sapphire pointed to the now waiting elevator, which he'd held open just for him.

"Wait." His attention immediately went to Cass. She was shooing Sapphire away. Sapphire didn't budge, but a holler from Prisma finally got rid of him. The elevator left and he was alone with Cass in the hallway. "What do you want?"

"Can we talk?" He waited for her affirmation. She stared at him impatiently. He took a deep breath, but didn't know where to start. "We need to get past," he waved his arms between them, "all this."

Cass rolled her eyes at his articulation and grabbed the doorknob to the apartment. He was able to stop her from leaving just in time, reaching over her shoulder to pull the door shut. Their arms touched. They were closer than they'd been in a long time. He stared at the details in her face. Big eyes caked with charcoal mascara, nose just lightly powered to cover her freckles, true red lipstick perfectly outlining her cupid's bow.

He unabashedly studied her. He missed her. He wanted her. She smelled like a million products; tree tea and jasmine shampoo, honey, cucumbers, nail polish remover. He was taken back to so many fond memories. She pushed hair away from her face, expertly drawing his attention to her bare neck and chest, and he saw the tiny leaf earrings she'd worn since she was a child. He'd never seen her without them. How many times had he outlined them with his tongue.

"Why is everything so different now?" he asked quietly. He really wanted to know. "Why didn't you tell me how you felt? How was I supposed to know?" Neither of them had bothered to move yet and the question brought them back to reality. She swerved to his side so smoothly he barely registered her movements. She refused to look at him.

"Know what?"

He stared at her hard.

"You know what I'm talking about."

"I don't."

"Please." He didn't mean to sound like he was begging, but it just happened. "Please don't act like this."

Cass shook her head like she was unwilling to deal with him. Her face was down as she sucked in a deep breath and he didn't know if she was upset or not, but he didn't try step forward. If he went any closer he couldn't guarantee his fidelity. He wanted nothing more than to keep her there for hours, make her forgive him the only way he knew how. They'd never needed many words before.

But that wouldn't work anymore. Everything was different now and he needed to express himself explicitly. There was no room for misunderstandings.

"Do you remember last Christmas?" He knew she wouldn't answer him, but he had to make her. "Do you remember what I told you?" She continued to look down. "You do." He felt a nasty welling rise in his throat. "I know you remember." He didn't wait for her response this time. "I meant what I said then. I still mean it."

He would never forget that night. They'd landed late on a last minute trip to Maui and as usual had split from the group to do their own thing. For hours they'd sat on the last step of their bungalow with their feet dangling over the moonlit water. Before they'd retired to bed, he'd spoken honestly. He'd asked her to stay with him, for them to be something more.

"But you still don't have anything to say about that, do you?" And just like before, Cass refused to meet his eyes. Again. Back then she'd gone to bed without answering and the next day acted like nothing happened. After they'd returned home she'd avoided him for weeks. Neither of them ever spoke of that night again. "Cass." He wanted her to look up at him, to understand that he still held on to that night. "You made me feel like such an idiot."

"It had been a long night and we were messed up. We both knew you didn't mean it."

"I'm telling you now that I did."

"What do you want from me, Motoki?" She sounded tired. "That was a long time ago. And it's irrelevant now."

"So it didn't matter to you that I fucking said I wanted to be with you because YOU felt differently then?" Her casual dismissal somehow hurt more now. "Well, I don't want to be with you now."

"Clearly," she muttered. "Are you done? I have things to do."

He was mad at himself for not letting her go then, but he just couldn't. He reached for her hand.

"Don't let it be like this. We can figure it out."

"What is there to figure out?"

"I want us to be together!"

"You just said-"

"I lied! I'm in love with a crazy bitch so what do you expect?" Cass simply sighed and shook her head, not at all reacting in the way he wished to his confession. "Did you hear what I just said?"

"Yes. You just called me a crazy bitch."

"I just told you that I loved you."

"So? What do you want, for me to leap in joy? Get over yourself."

He slammed his hand on the wall behind her.

"Stop screwing around with me!"

"Are you still with her?"

"What-?"

"Are you still with her?" she asked again. He had no choice but to nod. "Then we have nothing else to talk about." She went around him to enter the apartment. He'd never felt more defeated.

"Just tell me what you want me to do," he begged. He couldn't take it anymore.

"I don't know, Motoki." Cass turned the knob just as the door opened to reveal Rubeus on the other side. He urged her in and she hesitated for only a moment to spare him a final glance. "We're just cursed with bad timing." And when the door clicked behind her, he had a feeling it was closed for good.

*Usagi*

She had an excruciating amount of time to think about what happened that morning during class. There were so many ways things could have played out and not in a million years could she have imagined the reality. That goddamned note. Never mind the fact that Mamoru had read it before she had. She'd completely forgotten that it even existed, let alone where she'd put it. If only she'd remembered it she would have tossed it while she had the chance.

The only reason she wasn't crying her eyes out was because she had done enough of that on the ride to school. She could only be grateful that Mamoru's early tendencies gave her enough time to recover in the bathroom before homeroom. Simply recalling the utter frigidity with which he'd parted was more heartbreak than she could handle.

Worst of all, they'd had a truly good night. There was something so intensely gratifying about sitting between his legs and feeling his chest against her back every time he'd lean into her. In the few seconds between game pauses he would spoon-feed her ice cream and pie and move her hair from her face. It was a genuine glimpse of happiness, a truer, deeper satisfaction that was difficult to match. It made her feel special and protected, and presented a yearning she could no longer contain.

She wanted to use this situation as an opportunity for honesty. It could be their chance to start over. She could tell him what she really wanted, how she really felt. All she needed was some courage. If he rejected her then it wouldn't be much worse than what she was already going through. She may as well take the chance while she could since she wouldn't be ruining anything that wasn't already damaged. Besides, it would be impossible to continue if their relationship didn't become clearer and she refused to let their progress vanish so easily. She had to find a way to make things right again.

By the end of lunch period her anxiety reduced her to jelly. She had mustered up the courage to text Mamoru at the end of first period but had yet to receive a reply. After blatantly ignoring a few of her classmates throughout the day, she figured that being around people was not the best idea and decided to leave school early. As she went to grab her things, she saw Ichigo down the hall. She hadn't seen him since homeroom when they had shared a tentative hello. He'd avoided eye contact between class changes and she knew it could only mean one thing.

He waited by her locker and looked up when he heard her footsteps. She knew that look on his face. They were the last ones left in the hall and she came to a stop fewer than five feet from him. Thankfully he spoke first.

"This isn't working out, is it?" he said, an accusatory tone behind his whisper.

She didn't know what to say to him, or if there was even a proper answer to give him. He looked sexier with the somber air around him, the moodiness making his jaw sharper, eyes intense, bitter. Towards her. Is that what she'd done to him?

"Ichi, I'm sorry-"

"Yeah, I'm sorry too," he snapped.

She looked up, stricken. He'd stared back coldly. He'd never spoken to her like that before.

The moment between them passed in an instant and before she knew it his attention was elsewhere. Rukia, a recent transfer student from their homeroom that she hadn't gotten to know yet, ran over in a hurry. She showed him something on her phone that made him follow her. He didn't look back and disappeared through the stairs.

It was another one of those moments she wouldn't forget for a long time. Lucky her. Two in one day. Fortunately, she couldn't muster enough energy to feel any particular way about it. It wasn't surprising, nor as terrible as what she'd already been through this morning. Ichigo called many times last night, but she'd ignored them of course. She'd been with Mamoru. Still, seeing Ichigo so thoroughly annoyed with her should've been enough to feel some sort of remorse. It didn't. Nothing could get her away from what she was feeling at the moment.

She collected her things and managed to sneak out the school gates without seeing anyone else. She had to talk to Mamoru but she wouldn't dare contact him again until he messaged her back. When her phone vibrated in her coat pocket with his reply she immediately opened his text message.

It was a simple question mark. She stared at it for a while and contemplated spilling her heart out. She had messaged him about wanting to talk and she took this as him waiting for an explanation. As she started typing she received another message from him, a mind numbing 'who is this?' She promptly deleted what she had written and put the phone back in her coat pocket.

For the next few blocks she walked aimlessly. She didn't want to believe what was happening to her. She'd lost not only Ichigo, but Mamoru as well. The twinge in her chest rose up her throat and nestled in the back of her head. She wanted to jump into the nearest telephone booth, shut the door and scream and cry.

Why was their relationship so terribly unequal? Why could Mamoru do he wanted, get away with everything while she was judged and punished? Why, why, why?!

It wasn't fair.

That's when she decided to face him head on. He couldn't treat her like this. He couldn't discard her whenever he felt like it without giving her a proper explanation, or at least allow her to explain herself. She had put up with his slutty ways this entire time and yet he was too prideful to accept she was with someone else? He'd never tried to cut her off completely and he'll be damned if he thought he could start now.

When she got home she contemplated what she wanted to say to him. After hours of pacing in her room while talking out loud with herself, she left her house just after seven. Dressed in casual running clothes to throw off her parents, she jogged to his apartment to lift her energy. When she entered his lobby the doorman's desk was empty, the door to a stock room behind it open as someone moved around inside. Thanking her luck, she hurried passed mentally mapping where she stood in relation to the underground garage she usually entered. Once she stepped into the elevator she believed was Mamoru's, she immediately recognized it. She entered the code that he'd given her the night before hoping it still worked. It did.

As the elevator went up, in a last minute decision, she pulled her Luna Pen from her bra and changed into a simple black dress, blazer and flats, figuring it couldn't hurt to have more confidence in her looks, as well as appear more sensible and demure.

Surprisingly, Mamoru was not waiting by the entrance when she arrived. She wearily entered his foyer and once she was sure he wasn't around, used the opportunity to look over herself in the nearest mirror.

She rolled her head back and forth to loosen the tension in her shoulders. She could do this. She would fix this. She just needed to talk to him. Ballet slippers in hand, she took a deep breath and silently made her way through the house. Step by step, she told herself that whatever happened next would be for the best. What happened next would tell her exactly what kind of person she was under pressure. What happened next would define their relationship forevermore.

* l * l *

She found him in the kitchen. He mixed something in a bowl and she stood by the doorway watching for a few seconds before he noticed her. He wore a white tee and tartan pajama pants, his clothes surprisingly clean despite the mess all over his counters.

"Surprise."

He acknowledged her with a low grunt, but didn't turn around. She crossed her arms and waited for him to say something. He continued mixing.

"You stupid piece of shit!" she snapped. "What's your deal?!"

"Odango." He gave her a look to relax.

"This isn't funny! Why did you delete my number? Why don't you want to talk to me anymore?"

Mamoru stopped whisking.

"Didn't you get the message?"

She looked at her feet. This couldn't be happening.

"You can't treat me like this." she said firmly. She didn't want to cry. She didn't come here to cry.

"How am I treating you?"

"Like," she closed her eyes, "like I'm any other girl, like you don't care about me."

His gaze was hot on her, but she couldn't look up.

"Am I supposed to care?"

The question was so casual that she almost believed he was sincerely asking. When she didn't respond, he returned to his task.

"You're so easy to bother." His back was to her but she could hear the smile in his voice. "The text was just a joke. Like it would be that easy to get rid of you."

There was a long silence as his words settled. It was a struggle to keep herself from feeling hopeful because while she didn't pretend to know everything about him, she knew well enough to tell the difference between banter and honest sarcasm.

"Do you?" she whispered, afraid of his answer.

"What?"

"Want to get rid of me?" He didn't turn around for a long time. "If you do, just tell me instead of dropping stupid hints." She stared at the shiny wooden cupboards above him. The one that was slightly ajar had a large flour handprint above the left corner. "Just tell me what you want. Or don't want."

"I don't want to talk about this." His back was still to her.

"It's too late for that."

Mamoru exhaled loudly. She waited.

"What is there to say?" he asked.

"Do you care…?" She left him to fill the rest.

"How much do you care about my answer?"

"A lot."

"Why?"

"I…I need to know if you're serious."

"Do you seriously need to know?"

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?" She crossed over to him. "Stop it! I'm asking you for real! What is this? What are we doing?"

"I am baking brownies. You can help if you'd like."

If not for his quick reflexes she would have knocked the mixing bowl into the sink. He placed it on the counter away from her reach and grabbed her arm when she shoved him in the shoulder.

"You're awfully violent for such a little thing." She snatched her arm back.

"I'm angry, so angry with you." If he heard her voice crack he didn't acknowledge it. He turned on the faucet and washed his hands as if nothing had happened. "You won't even talk to me. You won't take me seriously." She rubbed off the dried batter that had splashed on her wrist. It was chocolate. "I guess there's my answer."

Mamoru leaned on the counter beside her so they faced in the same direction. His arms were stretched out behind him, his right hand resting so close to her ribcage she could feel its warmth. There was so much that she wanted, so much that she expected from him. Why couldn't he see that? Why did he refuse to understand? His finger poked her side jolting her from head to toe.

"There's nothing worse than someone feigning ignorance," he said after a long pause. Shivers covered her entirely. He didn't believe her. She looked up at him in earnest and pleaded.

"I'm not pretending about anything. I just want to know how you feel about me."

"You know."

"I don't!" she shook her head. "I don't know, I don't know anything! Don't give me that look like I'm supposed to know!" He turned around again as if giving up and started throwing the cleanup into the sink. Loudly. "Stop trying to make me guess! It's not fair. Just tell me." She grabbed his arm firmly and made him look at her. "Mamoru," she mustered all the valor she could. "You care about me. I know you do. But I want… I need to hear you say it."

He looked away first.

"That's not the point."

Her heart fluttered a million beats a second. He admitted it. He finally admitted it. Before she could fully inhale, he was across the room drying his hands on a towel.

"Why don't you understand? It doesn't make this any more meaningful. It doesn't change anything."

"Why not?" Why was he crushing the only hope she had left? Why wouldn't he let them work? "I broke up with him." His face jerked up, eyes stone cold. She hadn't meant to blurt it out so suddenly, but she was desperate. He had to know she was completely devoted to him.

"I didn't tell you to do that."

"I know." His hardened expression gave her chills and she braved the soon-to-be shitstorm. "But it was going to happen eventually because you know I'd rather be with you."

At that moment it would've been hard to believe that Mamoru was still a living, breathing being because halfway through her sentence he seemed to have died. She could almost see his spirit ascending through his gaping mouth. He placed his hand over his eyes, his thumb and index finger reaching across opposites sides of his face. He took a deep breath.

"I can't hear any more of this."

"I'm sorry if you don't want to hear it, but I care about you." She took a step toward him before deciding it best to keep her distance. "I care so much that a stupid joke about you deleting my number hurts so much. I don't want this to be over. I don't want you to push me away. I want us to be closer."

"That isn't going to happen." Besides the words themselves, it was the quickness with which he responded. There was no hesitation. No room for negotiation.

"Why not?" This time she did cry. Why wouldn't he give her a chance?

He was giving her a pitying look. She could feel it bringing her down and she was helpless to stop it. She covered her face, ashamed that she had let Mamoru see her like this. Ashamed because no matter she had wanted to believe, nothing had ever really changed between them. Ashamed because she loved him and he would never love her back.

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