My timing has gotten a bit off, but we're pushing through! This was that kind of story that just kept coming, and it turned out a bit longer than I was expecting. I really had fun writing this one, so I hope you have fun reading it. :D

Personal Life

Minako Aino sat crossed-armed in a booth at the Crown Arcade, eyes narrowed and cheek twitching as she half-listened to her best friend rattle on about the love of her life: Mamoru Chiba. It wasn't that Minako hated Mamoru, but there was was something off about him that she couldn't quite put her finger on.

For starters, there was his mysterious past. He never spoke of family and rarely mentioned any friends. Money didn't seem to be an issue, yet she had never heard him mention work. She never heard him mention much at all, to be honest. He clammed up when she was around which was a warning sign itself; she was by far the easiest person to talk to. Aside from Usagi. And maybe Makoto.

Finding out he was Tuxedo Kamen added fuel to her suspicion, and while a great deal of that had been cleared up it all boiled down to one key point: people in masks could never be trusted. It was great that he was Sailor Moon's rock and all, but really, what did he contribute to the group?

Then there was the whole horrible past lives where he seduced Usagi's previous incarnation, and caused the destruction of the Silver Millennium. Well, kind of. Minako was willing to overlook the fact the war would have happened even without the fated lovers as a catalyst.

"Mina?" Usagi called, interrupting Minako's rampant train of thought.

"Hmm?"

"Did you hear anything I said?" Usagi asked, head tilted to the side.

"Oh yeah." She nodded, taking a sip of her milkshake. "Mamoru's great," she said, and flashed an apathetic smile.

"I've been talking about Mamo-chan too much, haven't I." Usagi lowered her gaze, and a faint pink rose to her cheeks. With the turmoil of battles and lost memories behind them, she couldn't help but gush and celebrate. And truth be told, she wanted her friends to see Mamoru the way she did: strong, dependable, loving, and loyal.

"No, it's fine." Minako shook hear head. "I'm happy for two, honestly." She wanted to be happy for them, but part of her was unable to trust him. "Where is Mamoru, anyways?" she wondered.

"At the library studying," Usagi said, phone in hand as she texted him another round of emojis. "He has exams next week."

Minako's brow raised, and a sly smile pulled at her lips: she was going to determine once and for all if Mamoru Chiba was truly worth the affection of her friend. She was pretty sure he wasn't, and was positive she could easily find out about the secret life he was leading. "Well," she said, shoving her arms into her jacket, "I have to get going!"

Usagi's brow knit in confusion. "Weren't we gonna go shopping?"

"Sorry Usa, change of plans. Rain check?" She tossed her purse over her shoulder, and threw some change on the table to pay for her shake.

Minako ran to the library, cheeks flushed and heart pounding when she reached the entrance. She brushed the bangs from her eyes, and went to straighten the red bow in her hair only to realize that it was a dead giveaway. Pulling it out, she folded it neatly and tucked it into her pocket.

The library was not high on the list of Minako's favourite places to visit. She walked through the wicket, chin up, pretending she had returned that book she had borrowed two years ago. She tiptoed her way through tall stacks, peeking through shelves and around corners until she finally spotted him at a table in the corner.

He poured over the textbook in front of him, finger skimming the page. His knee bounced, and he tapped the end of his pencil against his lips, deep in concentration.

Minako was already bored.

Grabbing a random book off of a shelf, she found a seat nearby – close enough to see, but far enough away not be noticed. She propped the book up in front of her, and whipped out her cell phone.

"Okay," she whispered, shoulders hunched to stay out of sight, "let's do some digging, Mr. Chiba."

She had looked at his social media accounts a few times before, but never for clues. Opening Facebook, she searched for his name, and scrolled through his timeline scrutinizing every post; most were from Usagi. His album hosted only his profile picture, and his friend count was embarrassingly low. No groups were joined, no interests listed, and no personal information aside from his birthday.

"Ugh, boring," Minako scowled, and took a few filtered selfies before checking a handful of other services only to yield no results. Mamoru Chiba was an internet ghost.

Minako peeked over her hardcover shield, eyes wide with panic when she realized her target was no longer in place. His books and bag sat idly on the table, but he was nowhere to be found. She strode over to his seat, checking over her shoulder. Extending her arm, she lifted the flap of his bag with her index finger, peering inside.

"More books," she said, moving them aside in hopes of unveiling a secret. Nothing.

Determined to find out where he went, she decided to start with the café in the library's entrance. It would only make sense that so much studying would work up an appetite, and his phone and wallet were missing.

Minako moved briskly, checking for signs of Mamoru as she went. Turning a corner, she slammed into another person, yelping I surprise.

"Minako?" Mamoru gasped, adjusting his glasses.

"Nope! Sorry!" she yelled, pushing past him and scurrying into the women's washroom, heart pounding.

Mamoru remained, brows furrowed, glancing behind him. The girl looked identical to Minako, but he shrugged it off as a coincidence; she wasn't wearing her signature red bow, after all.

Leaning against a washroom wall, Minako fanned her beaded face. Even in all her battles with youma she swore she had never run so fast. After checking her makeup, and adjusting her hair in the mirror, she ventured back into the hallway.

When she reached the wall that bordered the café, she took out her phone, angling the camera just right and snapping a photo to check for her target. Sure enough Mamoru was there with a paper cup in hand. She squinted, focusing in on the onigiri he was eating, the blue wrapper indicating it was tuna – the most boring kind.

She stayed on Mamoru's trail as he finished his snack, and returned to his table. This time she kept a safer distance, choosing to watch from between the bookshelves. Minako's attention perked up when he checked his watch, and gaze swept the room.

"Who are you meeting?" she whispered, fingers tapping against her leg.

A boy trotted up to Mamoru's workspace, out of breath and bowing profusely. The boy shrugged off his backpack and sat down across from him, pulling out a workbook and pencil case. He handed Mamoru an envelope, and the tutoring session began.

Minako frowned. Having a job and helping children didn't quite prove he was the untrustworthy lout she had painted him to be.

A few hundred liked photos, and seven rounds of Candy Crush later, Mamoru and his student were gathering their things, and Minako's shoulders relaxed with relief. She had gotten her fill of worn books and stale air, and prayed that Mamoru's next stop would be more eventful.

Keeping a safe distance, she followed Mamoru the way she came, jumping behind telephone poles and passersby each time he glanced over his shoulder. She arrived at his destination without being detected, but stopped to peer through the window before going in. Her breath fogged the glass, and when she decided the coast was clear, she stepped into the Crown Arcade for the second time that day.

"Minako!" Motoki waved, tucking his order pad into the front of his apron. "Back already?"

She did a sweep of the arcade, eyebrows knit, and lips pursed. "Did Mamoru come in here?"

"Yeah, he's counting inventory in the back." Motoki pointed towards the storeroom. "Do you want me to get him for you?" he offered.

"No!" Minako shook her head vehemently. "No, I just thought I saw him come in before I did," she rambled, "and didn't see him here talking to you, and I thought that's kinda weird." She forced a smile, and took a seat at the counter.

"Okay then," Motoki said, going back to his tasks at hand.

Minako watched him work, questions springing to the tip of her tongue. Had she forgotten about one very value resource? "Hey, Motoki?"

"Yeah?"

"How do you know Mamoru?"

"He started coming in a few years ago, and we just became friends," he said, trying to recall the first time Mamoru had come into the arcade.

"Has he always come in alone?"

Motoki rubbed his chin in thought, head bobbing as he answered. "Pretty much. Except not now that he's with Usagi." His head tilted to the side, "why?"

"Just wondering," Minako said, raising her voice in an effort to appear innocent. "Hey, does he ever talk about, like, his family or anything?" she pressed, twirling a strand of golden hair around her finger.

"Not to me. He's pretty private." Her posture shrunk.

"Why is he counting inventory?"

"He comes in a few times a month and does it," Motoki explained. "Helps us out, and he earns a bit of extra money. Said he's saving up to do something special for Usagi." He smiled, and Minako fought back a frown.

"Oh," she said, resting her jaw on the palm of her hand. "What's he planning for her?" She should have been thrilled that her best friend's boyfriend was planning a romantic surprise, but all she felt was further disappointment. Her intuition was never this wrong.

"Don't know." Motoki shrugged. "I didn't ask," he said, forehead crinkling. "What is this, twenty questions?" he joked.

"I'm going to go play some games," she announced, sliding off the stool.

"Let me know if you need anything," he said, grabbing a dish cloth, and getting back to work.

"Thanks." She sighed; Motoki had not been a valuable source of information at all.

Minako sat perched behind a tall video game, absently inserting coins, and smashing buttons, focus remaining on the door. She glanced at the clock on her phone, her head falling back dramatically as an aggravated ugh escaped her lips. How long could it possibly take to count?

Feeling a tap on her arm, Minako turned to find a young girl staring at her. "Are you playing this?" the girl asked, pointing to the screen flashing GAME OVER in red.

"Shhh," she hissed, shooing her away with a flick of her wrist, eyes never leaving the exit.

Mamoru finally emerged from the back, and Minako ducked behind the machine, crouching low and peaking around the corner. She watched Motoki grab a motorcycle helmet from behind the counter, and hand it to Mamoru, who bowed a quick thank you.

"Bye, Motoki!" she called, rushing to the sidewalk to see Mamoru jet off on his motorcycle.

She made it half way down the block, but he was too fast. She clenched her jaw, lips pressed into a white sash – she was not going to lose him now. "Oh no you don't, Chiba," she said, finding an empty alleyway, and transforming into Sailor Venus.

Sailor Venus tailed her unsuspecting victim by rooftop, grateful for the numerous traffic lights and stop signs on Tokyo's streets. He pulled into an underground garage, and she instantly recognized his apartment building from the few times she had picked up Usagi, and the one time she had followed Tuxedo Kamen home.

Jumping onto Mamoru's balcony, she hid behind a leafy ficus and de-transformed - tennis shoes made for much better sleuthing footwear. Ducking behind the tree, she was able to see into his apartment through a narrow slit in the curtains. She watched as he entered, removing his shoes, and setting them neatly beside each other. When Mamoru moved out of sight, she pressed her ear against the glass. A door closed, and the shower started and Minako knew it was now or never.

She slid open the balcony door, shoulders tensing when it squeaked on the track. Slipping inside, she made a beeline for the bedroom – underwear and sock drawers were always the best place to start. Her head fell forward, hair falling in her face when she opened the drawer to find each item folded, tucked, and aligned in an orderly fashion.

His phone vibrated on the dresser, and she glanced to see nothing but emoji-filled texts from Usagi. Reaching deeper in the drawer, Minako's hand came to rest on a cardboard box.

"Oh my god." She scowled, pulling out a collection of condoms, and immediately shoving them back inside. Memories from a past life walking in on an intimate scene resurfaced, and she clenched her eyes shut to clear them out before moving onto the living room.

She stood in the centre of the room, hands on hips, debating where to start. The décor in Mamoru's apartment was definitely lacking. The walls were a boring beige, his furniture was white, and the only hint of colour were a few impersonal paintings, and a blueish rug on the floor. Hearing a voice, she tilted her head – was Mamoru singing? The idea alone sent a wave of giggles through her body as she ran a finger along the bookshelf.

"Jackpot," she whispered, finding a wooden box stuffed with a myriad of very personal-looking documents. With the shower still going strong, she emptied the contents on the floor.

She unfolded the first letter she picked up, briefly skimming the text. The Yamato Life logo was printed at the top, followed by length text that seemingly named Mamoru the beneficiary of some large payout. Minako's mouth twitched in thought as she folded the paper, and kept digging.

"Certificate of emancipation?" she read, pulling out another document. She struggled to understand the legal jargon, but picked up on a few key-points: Mamoru had been legally declared an adult at sixteen, and his parent's names were no where to be found. All it listed was a children's institution. With shaky hands, Minako folded the paper and set it back in its place. This was not the kind of secret she had been hoping to find; maybe her detecting was getting out of hand.

The water shut off, and Minako panicked, shoving the papers back where they belonged, and sprinting into a nearby closet.

"Great," she breathed, surrounded by jackets and shoes.

Through the slits in the door she could see Mamoru at the balcony window, towel wrapped around his waist, and arms folded over his chest as he looked at the darkening city streets. He disappeared, and she considered making a run for it, until she heard a rustling come from the direction of the kitchen. Maybe she would just wait until he fell asleep.

Minako's phone buzzed in her purse, and her breath hitched. She strained her ears, teeth clamping down on her lip, praying that the noise was muffled enough for Mamoru not to hear. Footsteps grew closer, and she squeezed her hands into fists, nails digging into her palm. The microwave dinged, and Minako released a silent sigh of relief as the creak of the floorboards moved further away.

The next few hours dragged on for an eternity – he ate dinner, and watched a boring documentary on TV. Her attention piqued when the telephone rang; maybe there was still hope that her gut was right. Minako pushed her ear against the slats in the door, listening intently. Her stomach sank with disappointment; she couldn't make out most of their conversation, but heard a few hearty utterances of Usako.

An hour later the sound was silenced, and the lights turned off. Mamoru shuffled into his bedroom, yawning loudly, and shutting the bedroom door behind him. Minako gave him a good thirty minutes to fall asleep, before liberating herself from the closet.

Her legs were stiff and her back ached, joints cracking as she tiptoed towards the balcony. Her gaze fell upon a planner left open on a side table, and she took a moment to flip through – of course Mamoru volunteered at the hospital on Thursdays.

Her walk home was filled with heavy steps as she began to wonder if she had judged Mamoru too quickly. Based on her findings of the day he seemed like a stand-up guy, so why was she having such a hard time trusting him?

The following afternoon Minako met Usagi at the Crown Arcade for their usual milkshake and chat. Usagi tried hard to talk about every topic under the sun, except for Mamoru, an effort that her companion appreciated.

"Usa," Minako interrupted, unable to hold her question back. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure." Usagi nodded, and set down her phone, giving her full attention.

"What do you really see in Mamoru?" Minako asked, brow creasing. "I mean, he's just so…" boring was the first word that popped into her mind, but she bit her tongue.

"Maybe you just haven't given him a chance," Usagi said, shaking her finger. Despite her gushing and upbeat demeanor, Usagi could tell that some of her friends weren't meshing well with Mamoru, and while her memories were foggy, she knew that's the way it had always been.

"I think I have."

Usagi paused, and took a deep breath, her cheerful smile fading. "You see Endymion and Tuxedo Kamen," she said, palms turning over as she presented the two options. "And I can understand why you don't trust him based on that, but I don't think you've really gotten to know Mamoru Chiba." She shook her head, and Minako sat back in her seat, lips wiggling from side to side.

"Come on Minako," Usagi urged, "I'm not the same as Serenity, and you're not the same as Princess Venus – or even Sailor Venus in your regular life."

"Hm."

"So, you'll give him a real chance?"

"I'll try," she agreed, unable to shake the notion that Usagi had grown wise.

"Thanks." She reached across the table, and squeezed Minako's hand. "And Mina?"

"Yeah?"

Usagi crinkled her nose, mouth curving into a slight smile. "He'd really prefer if you just knocked next time you wanted to see inside his apartment."