_______________________________________________________________________ I would just like to say, college applications suck. Yes yes, I know. You all want to shoot me and watch the puss ooze out of my opened mouth as I lay dead on the cold cement ground. So I'm really late. I'm sorry! School started and I'm editor-in-chief of the newspaper and the literary magazine and by some whacked out form of luck, I became president of the drama club, and I'm also a total slacker, and this being "involved" is not helping me. I know. You all still hate me. I got it. But aren't you still glad Chapter three is finally out...? Disclaimer: Sailor Moon = Not mine. Understood? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ =scene change ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~= flashback *FLASH* ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ = time change/dream **************** Innuendoes - Rated PG by Moon Senshi Chapter Three: It's Just a Game, Isn't It? "...and so nouns such as mouse and goose are irregular and do not end with 's' or 'es'," Ms. Haruna's voice bounced off of the chalkboard. She ignored the bored and tired sighs behind her. "Instead, and you will have to simply remember these forms, class, mouse is spelled mice and goose is spelled geese. Other similar nouns..." The chalk clacked on and off the board as she made the necessary loops to form the foreign letters. "This is worse than kanji," Osaka Naru muttered grumpily to Usagi who was seated next to her. "It doesn't even relate to Japanese at all. What the hell is "spelling" anyway? Who invented the English language?" She scribbled furiously into her notebook and waited for her friend to agree vehemently. Usagi grunted and drew lazy loops on her paper. Naru put her pencil down and glanced worriedly over at her friend. "Usagi-chan? Usagi?" she whispered. "Hmm...?" Usagi murmered absently. She doodled a sloppy domino mask over her notes. Naru sighed sadly at this all-too-frequent occurence of being ignored by Usagi. she wondered wistfully at her best friend. It wasn't so much impatience as it was apprehension that Naru experienced as she watched her friend slip away from her fingers. Usagi had changed. That much was apparent. Exactly *what* was different about her was the mystery--the puzzle that scared Naru out of her mind. At times, when they were walking home from school or going to the arade, Naru would notice the difference, the Thing that had created this wall between them. Usagi would stand a certain way under a light or stare wistfully at the moon. Her blue eyes would open up and show the world's sorrow, as if the entire fate of the universe lay on her shoulders. And Naru understood, at those times, that Usagi would never be the same. That the innocence, once lost, could never be retained in Usagi's laughter, or the way she squealed at a cup of pumpkin soup. she thought solemnly. She watched as tears started to collect in Usagi's eyes. As usual, her friend gulped and simply held them back. Naru felt her own eyes reddening, and she turned quickly back to her notes. She blinked her tears back with rapid eye movements and focused on what she was writing. Usagi buried her face in her arms and shut her eyes tightly. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ She was beautiful. Her blond hair flowed everywhere, seemed to continue for miles on end. Her blue eyes sparkled dazzlingly, a tiny gleam apparent on her pearly white teeth. Her stance was one of confidence and leadership. *I am sassy, hip, witty, and a Hero*, the girl seemed to say. *I have a great lovelife*. Usagi pressed her nose closer to the window of the arcade, staring at the poster of one of her best friends in envy. The ever elusive Sailor-V. The beautiful, confident, strong Sailor-V. Tuxedo Kamen would not have left Sailor-V. The waves of sadness washed over her again. she thought. She sighed, her breath creating a fog against the glass of the window. She pressed her forehead softly onto the cold surface of the glass and closed her eyes. She was just a kid, after all. All around her, a tiny water droplets started to sprinkle here and there. The early-November weather was not yet cold enough for the rain to turn into snow, but cold enough to make the citizens of Japan uncomfortable. Usagi shivered slightly, but didn't move. She didn't want to think right now. She just wanted to shrivel up and disappear. He saw her small, dejected form leaning woefully against the arcade window. The whistle that had been playing through his teeth died on his lips as he looked at her slumped shoulders and shut eyes. he thought as his pace slowed down. She had never seemed more young to him in his entire life. Her blond bangs curled softly about her face and her lips were parted slightly in a small frown of anguish. Her small hands were placed gently against the cold glass on either side of her head. Her breath came out in white puffs as she inhaled and exhaled at a slow rhythm. He found himself standing right behind her, hands in the pockets of his thick brown leather coat, his black hair ruffling in the wind. His heart ached for her. He'd never seen her like this. She'd always been the too sunny brat that had always managed to make his day a little more adventurous no matter how bad she made him feel. And lately she'd been on his mind constantly. Boggling him, confusing him. Making him hate himself. Sighing, he pulled a warm hand out of his right pocket and placed it on Usagi's shoulder. She stirred slightly and turned her head about ten degrees, just enough to see who it was. He watched as she turned back to the Sailor V poster. Her movements were reflexive, her breathing involuntary. She seemed more tired than any teenager should be. And right now, she seemed more beautiful to him than any teenager should be. "Hey, Odango," he said softly to the back of her head. "It's Saturday afternoon, remember? School's out. Why are you standing here in the rain?" His hand slid off her shoulder when she turned around to face him with weary blue eyes. "Don't," she replied quietly. "Onegai, not today, Mamoru-san." She leaned her head back against the window, and looked up, sighing. "I don't feel like it today." he thought with disappointment. It seemed that everytime he saw her now, she was too sad or too tired to fight with him. And selfish as it was, these fights were crucial to him, precious. They had been constants in his life, and he was reluctant to let them go. He wanted her to bite at him, yell at him. Because if she didn't...then he had trouble stopping himself from wanting to engulf her in his arms. Suddenly, he was angry at her. How dare she discontinue this routine of theirs? What gave her the right to decide whether or not she was "in the mood"? He wanted her happy, dammit, he wanted her normal. He wanted his Odango Atama back. In a flash, he had grabbed her wrists and pulled her from the window. She gasped out her surprise. "Nan da! Mamoru-san!" Her feet stumbled along the ground as he dragged her into the arcade. he thought fiercely. The sliding doors slid shut behind him. The arcade was not hot--but compared to the outside, it felt like an oven. Usagi was overwhelmed by the apparent thickness of the atmosphere. She felt her cheeks going red against the temperature of the building and felt claustrophobic all of a sudden. What the hell was this crap? Why was Mamoru flipping out and dragging her places? She put on her mask of annoyance and resolved to yell at him as soon as he stopped pulling her around. He stopped in front of the Sailor V game. Her sliding feet came to a halt, and she indignantly regained her balance. Steaming with anger, she opened her mouth to retort. But before she could say a word, he'd grabbed her by the shoulders and sat her down in front of the Sailor V game. Taken by surprise, she could do nothing but keep her mouth shut. He pulled a silver coin out of the pocket of his coat. Shoving it through the slot of the game, he waited for her to move. "Play," he ordered. She found her thoughts floating somewhere in the arcade and reclaimed them. "What are you doing Mamoru-san?" she demanded, ignoring the familiar blips and beeps coming from the machine. He gave her a stony look. "The game is waiting, Odango. Don't waste my 100 yen*," he replied. Infuriated and confused, she let her fingers tentatively slide over the red joystick. Her other hand flitted gently over the blue and yellow buttons. Resolved to not be embarrassed in front of her former nemesis, she began to rapidly move her fingers, blasting the youmas on the screen with a passion. Soon, she was entranced and captured by the game, everything else losing its existence in her mind. The familiarity of drowning herself in trivial joys gave her a rush of adrenaline. Her lips parted slightly in concentration, and finally--Mamoru had been watching for this impatiently--the little tongue crept out of her mouth and showed its tiny pink tip on the corner of her lips. Her fingers slid off the joystick as the game whined her loss and the words GAME OVER flashed across the screen. She sighed and turned around, disappointed that her distraction from the real world was now over. Mamoru was still staring at her with the weirdest expression on his face. She raised an eyebrow at him. He seemed to shake out of it, and cleared his throat. "You feeling better?" he asked casually. She nodded mutely. A slow smile appeared on his face. "Then come grab some coffee with me, Odango," he said abruptly in a light tone. "I could use some noise." It was an innocent enough invitation, but for some reason neither the inviter nor the receiver had expected it. For a second, she just looked at him, wondering if he had lost his mind and taken up crack smoking as a hobby. Yet she felt so comfortable here with him, almost "hanging out" with him, as if he were a good friend. And he looked so painfully regretful that he'd let the words slip from his mouth. She watched as he shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. He blinked his blue eyes in in embarrassment silently, waiting for her reply. He was damn cute. Damn Tuxedo Kamen to hell. She laughed heartily and stood up, grabbing Mamoru's hand. she proceeded to drag the startled man across the arcade. "Coffee is for lame students who want to study for finals all night. I still have a year before high school entrance exams! Let's go eat cake! And you can buy me lunch afterwards!" she announced cheerfully as she pulled him through the doors. He groaned. But he couldn't stop the smile from spreading across his face. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ They sat side by side on a slightly wet park bench, warm rice cakes settled peacefully into their stomachs. Usagi's feet dangled back and forth above the ground. "All right, creep," Usagi said matter-of-factly, puffs of white escaping her mouth into the cool November air, her earlier woes forgotten. "Fork it over." She held out her hand impatiently. He grumbled (since his mouth was full) and slapped a thousand yen note* into the palm of her hand. "Iffs noh feh! Yur ah hyume vahyoom!" He chewed furiously and swallowed. "Oh, stop quibbling, I won fair and square," Usagi retorted gleefully, pocketing the thousand yen. "What on earth were you thinking, saying you could eat faster than me?" She laughed. "Really," he said sharply. "Why on earth did I think I could out- eat the human vacuum?" "Because you're an idiot." He scowled. "Yes, please, Odango, rub it into my face," he mumbled. She beamed. "I will," she taunted. "Okay, fine," Mamoru said standing up, feeling slightly nauseated from the four rice cakes that he'd shoved into his mouth. He was feeling like a sore loser. "Get up," he ordered. She raised her eyebrows at him. "What are you trying to pull, Mamoru-san?" she asked. He grinned and yanked her from the bench. Their clothes were uncomfortably moist from the damp wood. "I bet you one thousand yen that I can run faster than you," he challeneged. She groaned. "Are you kidding me?! You're legs must be twice as long as mine!" "But you're lighter," he pointed out. She patted her stomach, the warm home of six rice cakes. "Not by much anymore." He laughed. "Oh come on! Like two more rice cakes is going to make much difference." She pretended to think. "Where would the finish line for this alleged race be?" she asked. He looked off into the distance. "That street lamp," he said finally, pointing at their destination. "By the trash can." She followed his finger until she saw what he was talking about. Her mouth twisted in a grimaced. "I don't know..." she said. "Oh come on, Odango," he wheedled. "It's not that fa--" "Okay!" she yelled and zipped past him at lightning speed. He stood for a second, stunned. Wait a sec. Did she just--? "Odango Atama!" he roared. "Get back here!" Mamoru took off in her direction. And suddenly, he knew that something weird was going to happen. There was hair everywhere. Two golden streams, in his face, slipping off his arms. He could vaguely hear her laughter through the loud wind. So close, and he felt like he was in a dream. In a cheesy movie. The sky was turning so dark, and the mood was so right. He felt as if he were floating, as if a familiar drug were enveloping his senses and bringing him across to oblivion. he wondered. Had this happened before? he asked himself again numbly. Her footsteps were louder now, and his heart thudded at her proximity. In the end, there was no question. The night had already been scripted. And his instincts were simply screaming at him. He closed the distance between them and scooped her up in his arms. Through his heavy breathing, he heard her gasp of surprise. He spun them around a couple of times. Three words hit him, along with a strong wave of deja vu... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ *FLASH* A giggle. Daffodils and silk skirts. Cold weather, strong winds... *FLASH* ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ She was so tired, her breath coming in short gasps. The cold air both refreshed and stifled her. She leaned her head against his chest, listening to his speeding pulse. The words briefly formed themselves in her mind and disappeared. She reached for them desparately, wanting to understand, to know. She felt him move. He put her down on the ground and held her to him tightly, burying his face in her hair. His hold was so warm, and she reached under his coat to hug his waist in a desparate embrace. As his breath ruffled the blond strands, she felt twinges of memory stirring within her, and she knew...knew... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ *FLASH* Black hair, thick and dark as night. Splashing water, ice cold. Mother. Stuffy ballrooms. Stolen moments in a garden. Abysmal fear and war. *FLASH* ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Knew what? And then they woke up. It seemed somehow that when they were alone together, she always managed to find herself in his arms. Too near him. Her breathing too short. Her feelings too pleasant. She knew he was looking at her head, probably confused and wondering the same things as she was, but she couldn't bring herself to look back. He blinked at the blond in his arms who's head was pressed against his long uniform coat. "Odango," he said gently, breaking the silence that had seemed so sacred moments ago. "Odango Atama." She wouldn't look up. "Odango, look at me." She grunted and buried her face in his chest. He looked at her once more, his brows creased in an expression of discomfort. Slowly, he began to untangle himself from her grasp. A strangled cry escaped her throat as she felt him start. She grabbed on to his waist tightly, her small frame trembling from the cold. "You can't be like him," she choked out. "You can't leave me too." He felt her gallantly trying to hold back her tears and stared at her, horrified. Slowly, he slid his arms around her and stroked her soft blond hair. She wiped each eye against his coat, and again, he felt as if his actions and words had been scripted long before this night had occured. "It'll be okay," he said softly. "I won't leave, I swear." She held on tighter and pressed her ear against his heart once more. "Forever?" she whispered. "Forever." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ His warm hand covered her small one lightly, tentatively, sheltering her cold, chapped fingers from the cold as they walked slowly towards her house in silence. The dark wisps of hair that covered his eyes flapped about gently in the chilly breeze, and he shoved his other hand deep into his pocket. The dead leaves crunched under their boots, and the stars shivered in the dark night. "Usagi," he said softly. She started, at once surprised that he'd said her name. The sound of his voice was sending tingles up her arm, and she looked sadly down at the huge hand that engulfed hers. Her eyelids slid over her eyes slowly as she stared. At this moment, they were connected. At this moment, he was hers. Had she always wanted him to be hers? Was that what all the fighting had been about? She'd wanted that with only one other person. She wondered if this connection with Mamoru would disappear any moment, as it had with Tuxedo Kamen. Perhaps in the next second, he would drop her hand roughly and run off with a simple "gomen." Abruptly, she let go of him and and crossed her arms around herself. He immediately felt the loss of the feeling of her small fingers grazing his hand. He opened his mouth to protest, but kept it shut. With a start, he realized that he had no right to demand that she hold his hand, tell him her troubles, cry on his shoulder. What had made him believe he had? he told himself firmly. Get real. You want more. You *felt* more. She was shivering now, and he could hear her teeth chattering. Automatically, the thick coat was off his shoulders. The next thing he knew, he was standing behind her, his coat hanging lightly from his fingers. She stopped. Her breath caught in her throat. she wondered. She felt the heavy thud of the warm coat falling upon her shoulders and the warmth of the closeness of his body behind her in answer. He slid his large hands up and down her arms, his breath blowing softly into the hairs at the nape of her neck. It was too much. This affection between them was too weird. She tensed up under his touch and couldn't move for a second. Then, with a suddenly flip of the body, she whirled around to face him. "Chiba-san," she mumbled akwardly. He looked at her, his face impassive, but his brain pounding into his skull at the sound of the formality. Like she didn't even know him. "You looked cold," he replied simply. She lifted her chin a little higher. "Hai. Arigatou, Chiba--" "Mamoru, Usagi-chan. You've never called me Chiba-san before. And we've known each other far too well for that." She nodded numbly. "I just-- I wanted to apologize," she started hesitatingly. "For what?" he asked sharply. His tone of voice frightened her, reminded her of the coldness she heard from Tuxedo Kamen, and she recoiled. "I...Nothing." He stepped closer to her and looked into her eyes. "Apologize for what?" he repeated softly, his minty breath invading her nose. She felt her eyes stinging with tears that threatened to fall, and she sniffled. "It's just..." she started. "Have you ever loved someone so much that it made your chest ache?" she choked out as the tears won over "...But then you realized that you just weren't meant to be? That you were fated to love separately?" Her voice trailed off in a whisper. "That you weren't good enough?" He was silent for a moment, and still. The tears were streaming freely from her eyes now, and she made no effort to stop them. Her chest heaved with cold air and racking sobs, sobs that felt good to release. she thought fiercely. Suddenly warm hands were on her face, wiping her tears, feeling the contours as a blind person would. Her sobs subsided and she looked up slowly, watery cobalt eyes looking directly into pools of cool midnight. He brushed stray hairs out of her face. She shivered when he allowed his hands to stop their exploration and settle at the back of her head. "No one is good enough for you," he murmured. She almost gasped when he leaned down. The world seemed to close around them, as it always did, and her eyes closed automatically in anticipation. And she felt his warm lips brush her forehead lightly. Her eyes flew open, and she stared at him, half-disappointed, half-relieved. Her mouth parted to form words that seemed meaningless, hollow, compared to what he had just given her: "Arigatou." Then, in flushed embarrassment, she turned away, the golden strands of her endless hair brushing his face... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ *FLASH* Flashing blue eyes. Golden hair whipping his face. Warm hands. <...> *FLASH* ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ He grabbed her arm abruptly and made her face him. "Did you feel that?" he demanded suddenly. Her head was spinning, swarming with bursts of random emotions that, oddly enough, felt like memories. "I-- What *is* that?..." she breathed, one hand clutching her head, the other gesturing for him to stay away. He led her to a curb on the sidewalk and sat her down next to him. The flash seemed to subside, and her breathing quieted. "You okay?" he asked tentatively. She stared blankly across the street for a moment, her head clearing. Suddenly, she shook her head. "I don't understand what that is," she said finally. "It's been coming and going all night, these flashes, these...these..." "Memories," he finished for her. Silence. She stood up, stuffing her hands in the pockets of his brown coat. "I think I can take myself home now, Mamoru-san," she stammered. "My house is just around the corner, so I don't think I'll run into any trouble and I appreciate all that you've done for me today but it's getting late, and I'm sorry that I've been so whiny and melodramatic all day, and I'm sorry that I ate those rice cakes faster than you, wow, those tasted good, I really wish I could cook like that, you know my friend Mako-chan cooks like that? But she's way better than a street vendor, but anyway, hopefully I'll be back to normal soon, but I don't want you to think you didn't help or anything, I mean you did, but I think I'll be okay and maybe tomorrow--" He burst out laughing, interrupting her stream-of-consciousness sentence. "Usagi-chan," he said. "Err...hai?" she squeaked. He simply allowed himself to drown in her gaze for a moment, his heart pounding. And he finally gave in to himself. Finally acknowledged what he couldn't seem to fight off or deny any longer. "Maybe tomorrow, I'll see you again. And we'll have a little fun, hmm?" She looked down at his solid form, still sitting on the curb, his arms resting casually on his knees. "I-- well, I..." He reached for her waist?...no, his coat pocket, and pulled out a pen. Fishing a wallet out of the back pocket of his uniform pants, he started to scribble on an old receipt. "You'll call me," he finished for her, as he scratched out his number. He looked at her numbed expression. "Or I will hunt you down," he teased, shoving the receipt into his coat pocket. "I know where you live, after all." "Tomorrow?" she squeaked out. Was this a challenge? Why did he want to see her again? Was he going to yell at her for whining to him all day? Was he plotting to drive her crazy to get back at her for latching on to him? Did he actually *like* her company? Did this mean they were friends? No, they were already friends...Did this mean they were *more* than friends? Lonely. Just like her. How about that? They had something in common. Suddenly confident, she smiled, her bad mood disappating. "You're on," she said with a clear voice. "Tomorrow then." He stood up, facing her, towering over her short form. "Tomorrow, he repeated. And she watched him turn and walk away. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "He did *what*?!" Usagi winced as Rei's screeching voice pounded through the phone. "Don't yell, Rei-chan, it hurts," she whined. "So, wait...go back to the part where you were eating rice cakes." Usagi sighed. "Rei-chan, I've told you this story twice already. I don't want to tell it anymore." "He gave you his *number*?!" "Rei--" "You're seeing him *tomorrow*?!" "Well, yes, but--" "He kissed you on the *forehead*?!" "He was only--" Usagi sputtered. "He's only head over heels in love with you!" Rei finished. Usagi reddened. "That's ridiculous! Stop teasing me! Mamo-chan is a senior in high school. I'm not even out of middle school yet! You're--" "Whoa," Rei interjected. "*What* did you just call him?" Usagi paused. "Who? Mamoru-san?" she asked. "Usagi," Rei said calmly. "You just called him Mamo-chan." There was silence for a moment. "I did?" Usagi whispered. "Uh-huh." "Oh." Another pause. Then: "EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEIIIIIIIIIII!!!!!!!!!!! Usagi's in love with Mamoru-san! HEHEHEHE!!!" "I am not!" Usagi shouted. "Oh, yes you are!" Rei shreiked in hysterics. "Mamo-chan, Mamo- chan, Mamo-chan, Ma--" *click* "Moshi-moshi?" Rei looked at the phone blankly. "Moshi-moshi? Usagi-chan?" A dial-tone answered her. Rei scrunched up her face. "Damn." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ *********************************************************************** She walked through the sea of pink flowers, her bare feet touching the soft dirt ground with a natural grace, her endless stream of hair flowing loosely past the hem of her dress. The soil squished between her toes, and she stopped to wiggle them around, enjoying the cool feeling of the ground. A soft breeze touched her face when her feet came to a stop in front of a silver stream. Here, the girl of about seventeen plopped to the ground in a poof of satin and lace and plunged her feet into the silver water. Her arms supported her weight on either side of her as she leaned her head back. She closed her eyes and listened to the flow of the stream. *Crackle*, *crunch*, *crunch*...blue eyes flew open. "Tsk, tsk, tsk. Princess Serenity, next ruler of the Silver Millennium. Still breaking palace rules, I see. You never change." Squealing, Princess Serenity scrambled to her feet, muddying her legs in the process, and turned around to see a tall impish looking man of about twenty grinning at her wickedly. Had she been less embarrassed, perhaps she would have noticed his deep blue eyes, the strong curve of his jaw, his thick ruffled black hair, his confident stance as he leaned against a tree with his arms crossed. Yet too absorbed in being exposed, she could only blush furiously and allow rage to take over. "Pardon me, who are you, sir, to tell me whether or not I've changed?" she huffed. "And can you explain to me why you were spying on me?" "Gladly. After you explain to me why you weren't at the courtroom to welcome the royal family of Earth," he replied coolly. She drew back. "I...I was there..." she started. "For the first seven minutes." "I...Well, it was boring!" she cried defensively. "And how do you know I wasn't there longer? It's been about an hour since the welcoming procession began. I could have left after it had ended." She lifted her chin indignantly. The grin softened on his face. He straightened up from the tree and moved closer towards her until he was staring straight down into her face. Slowly, he lifted her chin with his hand. "Because, Small Lady," he said quietly, "if you'd been there, you would recognize me, and I wouldn't have to go to the trouble of introducing myself." She gulped as he looked into her eyes and her heart thudded accordingly. The realization sunk in. "I know who you are," she whispered, struggling to keep her voice from wavering. "Endymion of Earth, I take it?" He looked at her in silence for awhile. Then, with a sigh, he let go of her chin and turned around, starting back for the Silver Palace. "Find your shoes, princess. Your mother is looking for you," he called behind his shoulder. In a huff, she straightened up her blue satin dress and rubbed the place on her chin where he had touched her. What an insolent man! He had no right to look at her as if she were below him. she thought angrily. "You never answered my question, Endymion," she shouted after him. "What do you mean, I 'never change'?" He turned around. For the first time, she noticed his height, his blue eyes that pierced through the distance to search her own. The sound of his deep laugh drifted toward her ears. "I suppose you were too young to remember your first visit to Earth?" he called back. "You were about three years old. Left the welcoming procession to jump into the moat. I still have yet to see the Queen angrier." He noticed something gleaming at his feet and pushed tall reefs out of the way to find two sparkling blue slippers. "Ah, here we are. Anyway, you dirtied up your pretty blue dress, remember? We all helped clean you up." He gestured to the soiled hem of her skirts. "Hmm. I see you're improving...somewhat." He picked her shoes up from the ground and threw them at her feet. "Come, now. Do I have to wash your feet for you again? Hurry up. Or the Queen will think I got...distracted looking for you." With a bold wink, he turned once more and beckoned for her to follow. Thoroughly humiliated, Serenity shoved her feet into her shoes and stumbled after him. "Wait, I'm coming!" she cried, her hair flying behind her. She caught up to him, panting, and held onto his arm as she caught her breath. "You didn't happen to see any pins near those shoes, did you?" she asked, panicked. "If my mother sees me with my hair down, she will undoubtedly beam me with her scepter. Please," she pleaded. He looked at the small hand that covered his armored arm so naturally, as if she felt completely at ease with him. He tore his eyes from her fingers to glance over her disheveled blond hair. She was beautiful, that much he could see with his eyes. But with his heart, he sensed in her a spirit that could match his own, that could surpass the highest being in the galaxy. He had the sudden urge to run his fingers through her tangled hair and touch her warm skin. Instead, he smiled and pulled her pins out of his left pocket. "Anything for the Small Lady," he said softly. "Although you're not so small anymore." She glared at him and snatched them out of his hand. "Thank you, sir. Now would you kindly wait as I do my hair?" Without waiting for an answer, she swiftly swept half of her golden hair up and twisted it into a bun. He watched the process with shameless fascination, marveling at how women seemed to know just how much hair was necessary on each side. She raked her fingers through her hair when she was finished and struggled with stubborn strands. In a spontaneous gesture, he helped her remove the tangles from her hair, plucking leaves out of random places. The soft scent of vanilla escaped her as he let the strands flow through his fingers, and he felt his knees weaken. "You're hair..." he breathed. She felt him still running his warm fingers through each strand and grew uncomfortably warm herself. "Yes?" she asked quietly. "Why on Earth would you want so much hair?" He winced even as the words slipped from his mouth. Her face turned a distinct shade of pink once more. "Perhaps you haven't noticed, *sir*, but we are on the Moon. If you have a problem with my hair, why don't you just go back to your own planet?" So saying, she whipped around, blond streams slapping him in the face. He quickly grabbed her wrists and pulled her to him, forcing her to look into his eyes that held a fiery emotion that made her want to melt. He rubbed his thumbs slowly across her knuckles. "But who said I had a problem with it?" he asked. Silence. They stared at each other for a moment, in the warm evening air, as the sky approached twilight. He wondered briefly why he seemed to be so taken with this girl. Never before had he encountered a woman, especially a princess, that had inspired such emotions within him. Why should this Princess Serenity be any different? But as she reached a hand up to touch his thick hair, all such questions disappeared into the air, and he allowed his arms to slide around her waist before she leaned up... *********************************************************************** ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Usagi tossed and turned in her bed. The stars from outside her window seemed to twinkle at her tauntingly, and she glared at them in reply. Frustrated, she slapped a hand on her clock and turned it to her line of sight. 2:53 am. She threw the heavy quilts off of her bed and stood up, pacing. Her thin, flannel, pink pajamas did little to shield her from the cold, but she didn't even notice. There were too many thoughts bouncing around in her brain. Should she have called? Well, that would have made it seem like she was too eager. But since she hadn't, his feelings might have been hurt. But if she *had*, then maybe he would never have talked to her again. Or maybe this was all a big joke, and he would have laughed as soon as he heard her voice. "Oh, you thought I was serious?" he'd have said. "Silly little middle schooler." This was crazy. What had she expected to happen if she'd called? Had she expected him to ask her out on a date? To whisper sweet nothings in her ear? Did she think he'd actually-- Her foot caught on her desk leg, and she jerked forward, knocking her chair and unopened schoolbooks to the floor. They landed with a loud clatter. Usagi stopped breathing and looked at her cat. Luna snored peacefully at the foot of her bed. Usagi smiled softly and stared at the cat sentimentally. Out like a light. That cat could sleep through World War III. Gee. Asleep, you'd never know what a nag she was when she was awake. She sat on her bed. Maybe she should have called. Oddly enough, she felt an incredible, genuine urge to talk to him, to hear his voice. She wanted to tell him about Tuxedo Kamen, about being Sailor Moon, about having the world sit upon her shoulders. She wanted to tell him about her friends, about how wonderful and beautiful each and everyone of them were, about how if he got to know them, well...maybe he wouldn't be so lonely. If he got to know *her*...maybe *she* wouldn't be so lonely. Of course it was too late now. Who on earth would be awake at three in the morning? But what if he didn't come tomorrow? What if everything just went back to normal? To old Odango and baka-Mamoru? Terror seized her heart, she grabbed her cordless phone with lightning speed. The number, which she'd already read over enough times to memorize, left her fingers in rapid movements. Her fingers were faster than the tone of each number, and she listened to the sharp, flat tune his number made. Her heart beating rapidly, she gulped and listened to each ring. One ring. Two ring. Three ring--*click* "Moshi-moshi?" The voice was deep, sexy, and exhilarating. Usagi felt tingles run through her body. Was this really baka-Mamoru? The biggest pain in her neck? "Ma--Mamoru-san?" she stammered. "Usagi?" he asked incredulously. Was that relief she heard in his voice? She gripped the phone tighter. "Hai. Er...Ohayo?...Um...I'm sorry I called so late, Mamoru- san, but I couldn't sleep, and...well..." She heard the creaking of bed springs and blushed. So he *was* in bed. Of course he was. It was three in the morning. "It's okay. I couldn't either," he mumbled, the sleep thick in his voice. She heard him shift under his covers and laughed. "Liar." He chuckled softly. "I try." "Oh. Well, I can let you go if--" "No, no, that's all right," he assured her. He dragged a hand from his forehead down his face. "I'm awake now, I swear." "I'm very sorry." "It's okay. Wow, I was having the craziest dream." "Dream?" He was talking about his dreams? Hmmm...she liked this new sleepy Mamoru... "Yeah...I can't really remember it though. Something about...odangos..." "Mamoru-san!" she snapped. "No, really!" he protested. She laughed. "So, why couldn't you sleep?" he asked, changing the subject before he got himself into trouble. "I..." she started. "I'd rather not talk about it." "Hmm. All right. Oh, about tomorrow." "Right, tomorrow." "Um, breakfast?" "Ew! Morning?" "Okay...no." He laughed. "Odango Atama...Sleepy Atama too, huh?" "Mamoru-san..." she warned. "Okay, okay. How about the park at eleven." "In the morning?" she squeaked again. "Yes, in the morning. Is there a problem?" he asked innocently. "Oh, no no no," she protested. "Good, then." An awkard silence followed, and Usagi wrung a stream of golden hair in her hand as she racked her brain, wondering what to talk about. Inspiration struck. "Would you tell me a story?" she asked suddenly. He sat in silence for a moment, slightly taken aback. "What?" "A story. Like the ones Minako-chan tells me." Slowly, he felt his cheeks warming at this innocent request. "All right," he said, both amused and pleased. "What kind of story?" She frowned. "Well, that takes all the fun out of it. You have to pick." He laughed again. She's never heard him laugh so much. She rather liked the sound. "Hell, you already have me up," he said. "Why not. There was once this amazing woman who was a superhero. She was no regular super hero, mind you. Rather a clutz, you might even say, but--" Usagi sunk into her quilts and yawned. "Did she have a name?" she asked. "Of course," he said, racking his brain. "Err...Mainer Voon." So saying, he nearly kicked himself. "Mainer Voon?" she murmured. "That sounds familiar." "Right. Right. Anyway, Mainer Voon had a heart as big as the universe, big enough for two in fact, and every night, she'd try to save the world that she loved so much. But even with her enormous heart, she couldn't save the world on her own. So one day...." he took a deep breath and plunged in "...she met this guy who wouldn't show her his face because he was afraid to show her who he really was. He was rather arrogant, in fact, you know, sort of macho but scared at heart. But even he couldn't resist her charm, and he swore without telling her to protect her with his life..." And thus, they passed the night talking until the stars faded, even after Mamoru's ridiculous story of the super hero and her protector who wouldn't show his face. Usagi spoke of her family and told him about her friends. He in turn told her of his lack. Silence once more. "You have no Mama and Papa?" "...No." "Gomen, Mamoru-san," she said sadly. "I never knew." "It was a long time ago, Usagi-chan." He didn't speak for a moment and seemed to struggle with himself uncomfortably. "Don't," he snapped harshly. His tone caught her by surprise. "Don't what?" "Don't pity me." "Oh, I don't," she replied. "I don't pity you." She laughed. "I could never pity the man who taunts me everyday about my hair. I just...understand you a little better." "Oh, really?" he asked sardonically, but in a softer tone. "Yeah. Whether you like it or not." Later, they talked of more abstract ideals, of the world and its expectations. Usagi snuggled into her bed, comfortable with his voice. When the topic moved to stars, she tried her best to listen intently as he described constellations. "Cassiopia was stuck up side down?" "Hai. It's a sad story. But it's a beautiful constellation." "Sometimes I think I'm upside down," she said sleepily. "Upside down? You? What do you mean?" he asked. "Oh nothing," she murmured. "Like who I am compared to what I have to do and... and..." "Usagi?" "..." "Usagi-chan." *snore* Mamoru smiled gently. He listened to her breathing for another moment. Then, "Good night, Odango...Usako..." and hung up softly. *********************************************************************** Blah. Tired. Go home. Get off the internet, you addicts. The story's over. I'm sorry if it was bad, but at this point...I can't even care. Try to excuse the melodrama. Have a good one.