Chapter 9: A Familiar Foe

Usagi hissed out an exhale slowly, feeling the grip on her wrist. It was evident he had no intention of letting her go - his hold on her still tight. Her shoulders slumped forward, hoping that she could disappear in that exact moment. She didn't want to turn around - no, she couldn't. It was easier for her to feel rejected knowing he had memory loss, but now? He knew everything and the thought of him turning her down even after the fact caused a lump in her throat to form. Willing the sting of tears at the corners of her eyes away, she looked over her shoulder at him and asked, barely audible, "Mine or yours?"

He contemplated briefly, trying to think of what would make her most comfortable and responded, "Yours if you don't mind."

She nodded and pushed the door to her entrance open, it creaking slightly while they both stepped in. She looked down at his hand holding her wrist and cleared her throat, "You can let go of me now. I don't have anywhere to run to…" she lightly teased, trying to humour the situation a bit. His expression softened slowly from the pensive and serious one with a small smile finding its way to his lips. He released her wrist and she took that opportunity to go into the kitchen and start preparing tea and snacks.

Mamoru looked around uncomfortably as he tried to figure out where to situate himself in her space. Indeed from the time she asked him if there was too much pink, there were multiple shades of it and white everywhere, starting from her couch cushions, the rug, and canvassed paintings on the wall. Something inside him told him that this was very much like her and in a way it provided him comfort of some sort. He scanned the room until photo frames sitting on top of a wooden table caught his eye. He felt that twang of guilt again, trying to figure out why it was gut wrenching to look at them. There were some photos of him and her - smiling, hugging, and kissing. He could feel his face heat up as he stared at one picture where Usagi was wearing a low cut top with her cleavage pressed up against his side, her hands wrapped around his arm, her head leaning against him. Willing his mind to not wander, he shook his head and found himself a seat at her dinner table.

Usagi walked back into her living room area with her hands full of a tray that carried the snacks she procured and two mugs of oolong tea. She set it down and took a seat across from her ex-lover with a weary look on her face, not knowing that she was subconsciously holding her breath.

"I, uhm…I am not too sure where to begin…-" he started, but she cut him off softly as her blue eyes bore into his. They held uncertainty while trying to feign confidence all at once.

"Mamo-ch…sorry, Mamoru-san," she corrected, emphasizing their lack of familiarity, "please. You do not need to force anything. If you are happy with your life, with…" she hesitated, "Ayumi…then don't let me derail it. I was nothing more than…" her voice hitched before she cleared her throat, "a stranger…" she glanced down momentarily, not sure if she could continue her sentence.

"You're wrong."

Her eyes darted back to his, confusion playing across her face. Her eyebrows began to furrow in together as she tried to make sense of his answer. What did he mean?

"You're wrong…" he repeated, "I always felt like something…no, someone was missing from my life. It didn't matter where I searched, who I went out with, how many friends I surrounded myself with…there was always a void," his voice deepened, an echo of loneliness and pain following behind, as if not trying to crack, "then the dreams…god…I can't even begin to explain how it felt to wake up from them and look around for something I knew should be there, but never was. All I could think of was the fear and hollowness I had once; I was alone again…just like before…" he cracked, "then you showed up," cobalt eyes locked intensely with hers. They couldn't hide the emotions anymore. Tortured. Anguished.

"How can you be a stranger to me…when all I know inside is that you are everything I knew I needed? Every time I see your face, I am reminded of that feeling of home? That everything that was once bleak, dark and empty now had meaning? That I found the light and hope? Usagi… you are no stranger to me, but I don't know you."

Tears brimmed the bottom of her eyes as the lump in Usagi's throat tightened. Her lungs burned with every breath she took, her heart ached as he spoke. This was everything she wanted to hear from him, yet not. How could he have so much certainty and utter in the same breath his unfamiliarity with her? She didn't know whether she should be comforting him or leaving him be. This version of Mamoru…he was so broken - almost as if he were going through a psychotic break.

How much more did she need to put on her shoulders? How doomed could their love be?

Usagi knew she loved him at all costs. She knew she wanted him.

…She just didn't know if she could have him like this.

She knelt down in front of him and took his hands in hers, hoping that it would provide some alleviation for the turmoil he was going through. Leaning her forehead on their combined hands, the young girl kept muttering, "What…what can I do? How do I fix this? What should I do?"

He didn't say anything for a while, leaving silence between them. Was this it? Was this the moment that Usagi feared the most? Was he going to reject her after all this? Shakily, she raised her head to look at his, but his eyes were cast down. She couldn't quite make out his expression or read his body language.

"Mamoru…?" she breathily asked.

He slumped forward for a moment, but kept quiet. Something was off.

"Mamoru?" she repeated with a worried tone.

"Mamoru…" he repeated slowly, as if he were tasting the name on his tongue. "Ah, you still call him this. Sorry Princess, Mamoru isn't home at the moment."

He looked up, his cobalt eyes now clouded with something she couldn't quite place. His aura and demeanor shifted before a dark grin took over his face and he asked, "Did you miss me?"

Usagi gasped, a shock of terror running through her body as she tried to pull her hands away from him, but he moved so fast that she fell backwards onto the floor on her bottom while her brain tried to register the man that was now speaking to her. His hands held her small wrists in a tight grip as he towered over her with a smug expression - one she hadn't seen since Beryl brainwashed him.

"E-Endymion…" she whispered.

What was once a bad dream had now turned into a nightmare. The Dark Prince was back.

OooOooooo

Author's Note:

Apologies, I am still rusty but it may take a while for me to get my groove back. What do you all think? I have some ideas for the plot and where I'd like this to go, but feel free to share what you would like to see. :)

Stay tuned!