Usagi, seated beside Mamoru, was practically mute.

She'd been quiet the moment she'd walked through the arcade's door. Yes, walked — she hadn't skipped or bounced or performed any of her other equivalents of walking. She spoke only one word — "Thanks" — to Motoki when he'd handed her a chocolate milkshake,
and that was it.

Mamoru, his newspaper blocking his peripheral vision and therefore, unable to see Usagi, cleared his throat and spoke into the void of silence between them.

"Wow, Odango, you're quiet today. I wish I could say I was disappointed, but that would be a lie."

Mamoru braced himself for the screeching he was sure would commence, undoubtedly in his ear. But when it didn't come, he cautiously lowered his newspaper, and his jaw dropped when he realized the source of Usagi's newfound ability to hold her tongue.

Her feet were dangling limply from her stool, not hooked behind it's legs or drumming out a rhythm. Her arms were folded across the countertop, her head resting upon them, her face turned to him. Her breathing was slow and steady.

She was asleep.

"Odango?" Mamoru whispered, half wanting to wake her. But she didn't stir, and despite himself, relief flooded him.

In sleep, her beautiful face was smooth and serene. Her dark lashes fluttered against her slightly flushed cheeks, and her lips were slack, for once not frowning or yelling. They were round and pink, and so soft looking . . .

Even sleeping, she was impossible to look away from.

Then barely, just barely, Usagi started to slip. On the stool with no back and no arm rests to catch her. Not awake to catch herself.

Without thinking, Mamoru threw his arms around her waist, anchoring her to him. Fortunately, she stopped falling. And whether good or bad, was now slumped against his side. His heart started pounding, and not from adrenalin. He stiffened, becoming hyperaware
of the body curling against his. The way he could feel her belly expanding and contracting under his arm as she inhaled and exhaled. The way her delicious scent tickled his nostrils. The way her face was tucked into his chest, as if it belonged there.
Perhaps it did.

As minutes passed and Usagi still didn't wake, Mamoru relaxed, deciding to enjoy the peace while it lasted. He assured himself that he was only holding her because he didn't want her to fall again. What other reason could there be?

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Usagi was enjoying herself, to say the least. Of course she wasn't asleep. How could she have fallen asleep when Mamoru was right there, close enough to touch?

Unable to stop a tiny, tiny smile fromspringing to her lips, she burrowed farther into Mamoru's warmth. She had been planning this for days. However much Rei might say her head was full of fluff, Usagi liked to think she was downright diabolical
when it counted. And what counted more than Mamoru?

All else aside, the one thing she was sure of was that she didn't want to ever, ever wake up.