Chapter Two
Days after the terrible incident in the arcade, Motoki still hadn’t forgiven his best friend. According to all reports, Usagi had been completely devastated by his comments, and even refused to leave the house for a few days. (The arcade manager had reminded him of this many times in their short, angered text messages.) It was all the same to Mamoru, however. The world was a safer place with the infamous Odango locked away in a room; somewhere she couldn’t accidentally trip and kill anyone or permanently damage the eardrum of an innocent passerby. Unfortunately, however, the disturbing little bonus he’d gained from the fight had been his banishment from the Crown for two weeks.
It was why his eyes met with a cool golden oak tabletop, instead of red Formica, and that his coffee cup no longer looked old and well loved around the chipped and worn handle. Instead it was unfeeling foam with some semblance of a demented mascot painted across it’s happy face. His eyes darkened in fury at the sight of the little thing. A bunny, as if to mock him with the exact reason why he’d been kicked out of his favorite coffee place.
This stupid chain couldn’t even handle a regular black; they’d gone and put something in it as a sweetener. Ice mocha…frappe…cappuccino…God he hated this place. You say regular, they say ‘oh, but wouldn’t you like a shot of energy booster-ma-thingies? Would you like any artificial flavoring or sweetener to make your grey matter look like a small crater?’ Midnight blue eyes narrowed ominously, fingers tightened around the creepy, deranged bunny face on his cup. No, this place was not acceptable either.
Besides, it was so quiet here he could actually hear the pathetic drivel called his fan club cooing in the background. It was unnerving and completely irritating; so much so that he didn’t bother pretending they weren’t there. Even with the lure of advanced business management to help him forget, their shrill little voices and pathetic ‘Mamoru-sama’s’ gurgled behind his ear enough to make any sane man sick to his stomach. It was days like this one that made him truly hate whoever had put together his particular gene pool. It wasn’t enough to slap some brains on him and say, ‘There you are, my boy! Now, go invent cold fusion!’ Instead, he had to look like some freakish porn star –and that attracted more foolish attention than it was worth.
God, women were so stupid. What he wouldn’t do to trade all of them for test tubes and mathematical equations. At least then, they’d be useful for something, and they’d shut the hell up! He shot an irritated glance at the group as one of them whispered his name too loud and nearly fainted dead away. This set off a whole new round of girlish quibbles about whom he had cast his eye on. He looked away in irritation.
Every time he took a single step free of the apartment, it was like they homed in on him and buzzed just barely out of eyeshot like a swarm of flies until he settled himself in comfortably. Then it was a free-for-all to any booth near him –occupied or not. Every once in a while, one of the herd would get brave and approach him, but for the most part they realized he liked his personal space. Both eyes rolled heavenward in disgust at the thought. He’d begun turning it into a nice little game for them, that way he could be amused, and they could feel as useless as they actually were.
Icy sweet fingers of fear clasped his chest tightly, sending a shot of adrenaline directly into his blood stream and caused his soul to shiver with excitement. A light sheen of sweat began to bead across his smooth forehead at the quick flash that brushed against his psyche. The feelings were not his own, but a welcome intrusion to a boring day. A wicked grin crossed his face, hidden from the crowd by a carefully concealing hand.
Well, not all women were useless; he amended to himself before digging his wallet free.
Ditching the fan club was routine by now as he stood and made his way tactfully to the only place they wouldn’t go. He’d made the mistake on a few occasions of quietly attempting to slip out the bathroom window, but having seen exactly how far their fanaticism went, he silently hoped there was an air duct or something to climb through. One hated to be overdramatic like that, but for the ravenous hordes to know his secret identity would mean signing himself up for a lifetime and a half of this nonsense, and he would not allow it. It was the horror of this prospect alone that kept him from doing something asinine like trying to find an alley or something. The girls would follow him in a heartbeat, and that made for awkwardly long periods of searching for just the right spot. It was to this trait that he owed many of the deadly last-minute rescues he’d been performing for quite some time now.
The awkward placement of such a hiding spot made it near impossible for any ravenous fan to follow so long as they were properly attired in the school uniform, or anything remotely close to it. He found himself fervently praising the heavens for whoever had invented skirts for them. The terrifying idea that they might break a nail or flash their pathetic bodies to the world kept them from moving too quickly or trying anything stupid, should he ever be forced to make such an escape while they watched. Yes, skirts for women were like leashes for dogs. It kept them in their place, predictably clean, and out of his way.
A service door across from the men’s bathroom had, amazingly, been left ajar. Praising his luck that none of the fan-girls had bothered to follow him down the hallway; he slipped through the exit and into the open air. Within moments, he was on the roof, black and red cape whipping in the late afternoon wind. The sly smile playing at the corner of his mouth betrayed his innermost thoughts as the adrenaline began coursing through his system.
This was what he lived and breathed for, a chance to see a real woman, to lift her perfect little body from immanent doom, feel her shiver against him…
They had been fighting together for almost a year and a half now, and he had hardly been able to look anywhere else in nearly as long. Few women could hope to compare to his young charge, both in looks and personality. Few, he amended, meaning none. It was this train of thought that had lead him to believe that all other females were completely hopeless, and not some ridiculous self worship as others tended to view it. It was simply that the Senshi herself would be the only one occupying his mind at any particular moment, and no other could ever come close. A year and a half was a long time to fight together. His thoughts were merely a natural extension of the time spent.
Well, today’s battle would go just a little bit differently. After all, today was August 3rd. The wolfish grin split his handsome face as he leapt toward the scene. He’d never been given a birthday present that he actually enjoyed in his life, but that didn’t mean it was going to stay that way. If the lithe little blonde’s body language had anything to do with it, she wouldn’t have any objections at all.
~~~~~~~~~~
Usagi was tired and sick, two things that made the trip to the Hikawa shrine long and unpleasant. The hot August sun felt as though it were sizzling the uncomfortable weight in her lungs like fried eggs, and it burned through her short sleeve t-shirt like it was nothing. It was just a few days after her less than triumphant fight with Mamoru, and she had spent them simpering in bed with the flu. A heavy cough ripped at her tiny frame as she shivered again. She shouldn’t be out right now, it was only about half way through the virus, her mom had said. That much was obvious though, her head felt dizzy and light, and her stomach churned abominably in the humidity.
The others had called a meeting of some kind. It was a worthless gesture since the Dark Kingdom hadn’t attacked in the past two weeks and nothing new had turned up according to Ami-chan’s computer. A dark look flittered between her golden eyebrows as she thought about Rei’s voice over the communicator. This meeting had to be so she could rub her all-powerful skills in Usagi’s face, or that the great fire had somehow tipped off her inner psycho-whatever. The brunette hadn’t even asked if she was feeling any better. Of course, she assumed that little bundle of joy probably sprouted from the arcade the other day.
Ami and Rei had tried to come over after the fight, but Usagi had no desire to see them. It was true; she had been in love with Mamoru for nearly a year and a half now and hadn’t known it until just recently. She didn’t really see how that was possible, given his egotistical, self centered attitude, but there were times when he just seemed so…alone. It was in those times that that soft little place in her heart would burn a little, ache a little to help him be happy. Oh, but what a stupid thought that had been. Chiba Mamoru was always alone, and he preferred it that way.
Yet another silent tear squeezed out past her eyelashes, marking at least the millionth since his harsh words. Maybe even worse than all of that was the knowledge that it would take a very long time to forget him. She knew only because she’d been trying to do that since day one. It was so obvious that he could have his pick of any of the smart, sophisticated college girls that made up the core of his fan-club, that he could send any girl screaming over the edge with one look, one smile. She had known that if her feelings were ever to be public knowledge, he would laugh that chillingly cold December laugh, and crush her fragile heart into the ice. Hence why she had been trying so hard to forget everything she’d ever felt for him since the beginning.
Well, a lot of good that did her. She’d just blurted it out in a fit of rage, not even thinking about it…
No. She wasn’t going to think about that day. She was going to move on. She was going to stop eating at the crown, stop hanging out at the corner on her way to school, stop staring at him as he drank his coffee, and stop watching him read in the park. She nibbled her lip at all of those determinations, suddenly realizing what a stalker she’d turned out to be. Her mother would be so proud. A sloppy little giggle broke free from her somber face at her mother’s antics.
A shrill baby cry broke through the afternoon din and Usagi felt her nerves stand painfully at attention. Her breathing was hampered due to the current state of her lungs, but she could tell the child was terrified. Another voice soon followed and her feet began to pound across the pavement toward them. If it was just a mother…if it was just a little tizzy…. Her stomach vaulted in protest to her movements just as she slid to a stop in front of a small house. The sign outside read Baby Garden Adventures, and would have been passed off as nothing if several more hollers hadn’t erupted at the same time.
Her Senshi senses heightened to the call and she glanced around curiously, hoping for some place to hide among the humble, one story suburban houses. The only cover in sight was a small trash can and the homes themselves. Grumbling to herself, she quietly made her way to the neighbor’s yard, and hoped no hentai middle-school students were home to watch the light show.
Her henshin was done quickly, made awkward by a small lapdog that seemed a little too interested in the transformation process for her comfort. Moon quickly moved toward the back of the yard, noting methodically that something big and slimy was currently draining a caretaker as Jadeite looked on in the background. Anger sizzled just below the surface of her consciousness and she found herself jumping the fence easily despite the sudden loss of vertigo.
“I really hate being a Senshi.” She muttered before flinging her tiara with as much energy as she could muster. She flew through the introductions quickly, noting that Jadeite didn’t bother to stick around for the whole fight, though it began in a matter of seconds after the speech. She hadn’t bothered to call the other girls in her rush to save the children, and normally wouldn’t have been bothered by it. Unfortunately, she forgot about having the flu.
Her body was slow and sluggish due to the fever that still wracked her system, making it difficult to dodge all of the attacks. She wasn’t used to being thrown around on an upset stomach either, and quickly found herself weaving sickly between hits. She should have taken time to call the Senshi, but the thought hadn’t crossed her mind before jumping to the lady’s aid, and now wasn’t the best time to be doing so. Her mouth tightened into a grim smile. No doubt the others would find more than enough fault there.
The young girl felt a little punch drunk after the second explosion and found herself going down on both knees to regain the moment. Her head hurt abominably and kept spinning around in circles. She was bad enough normally, but not feeling well made her klutz attacks ten times worse. The babies were screaming bloody murder in her ears, the youma was laughing and firing exploding diapers at her, and she felt the whole world tilt sideways as her legs slipped out from under her. Pathetic tears rolled down her cheeks as the ground met her aching sides, her stomach lurching in protest to all the commotion.
Her hands went beneath her to steady the rumbling ground as she struggled back to her knees. Her stomach lurched hard within her, leaving the girl gasping and clutching her pounding head as the smell of her half-eaten sandwich returned full force. One glance downward proved the unthinkable as she forced herself to look away. Of all the weak, pathetic things she could have…thrown up in the middle of a battle?! She really WAS the biggest ditz in all of Tokyo!
Sailor Moon forced herself to her feet, wobbling only slightly though the pressure had been removed from her head. It was a little crazy, but that made her feel loads better! Suddenly the monster didn’t seem nearly as scary as it had before as she ripped the moon wand from her subspace pocket. That might have been due to the fact that he wasn’t even facing her.
Her movements were cut short as the monster lifted a young screaming child from the ground. Her breathing stopped at the sight of the little thing. His face was screwed up tightly in irritation and fear, pudgy little cheeks dyed red in the afternoon light. One gloved fist clenched in anger, her legs moving unbidden beneath her.
She swung out a heavy roundhouse, easily knocking the diapered atrocity to the ground as she dove for the shrieking child. Her knees slammed hard into the grass, baby held precariously in her quickly weakening arms. She jumped to her feet, hurriedly racing across the lawn to get as far away from the monster as possible. The pounding of its footsteps weren’t far behind before her foot caught on a toy and sent her sprawling into the ground. She cradled the baby close, careful to take the brunt of the impact as rocks and dirt dug painfully across her side.
She was so stupid! The child was screeching murder directly into her throbbing head, the youma sure to attack any moment, and she trips?! She clutched at his tiny frame, waiting for the monster to attack as her fingers fumbled for the tiara once more. Her actions were too late, thought. One large, strong fist closed around her throat and yanked, spots swam before her eyes and her grip fell slack as she was mercilessly hauled into the air. The combination of energy loss and asphyxiation on her tired body sent all thoughts of counter attack skittering into the darkening corners of her mind. She just felt weak and tired, she wanted the fighting to stop long enough to make some sense of it all, and she wanted desperately to find the poor child’s mother.
Why am I such a failure, she thought as the hot tears poured from her eyes once more. Knowing her plight was seconds from ending, she reached limply for the frightened child as the hope drained from her limbs.
Then, it was over. The world slammed into her aching legs, ground across her forearms, and scratched her face. She gulped greedily at the air, coughing against the painfully restricted airway as it struggled to regain its shape. Her vision cleared slowly as the earth rumbled in response to an attack. The Senshi? She coughed again, groping blindly in the grass to find the baby from earlier.
“It’s ok, Moon, I’ve got him.” The dark timbre of his voice might as well have been the halleluiah chorus for all it mattered to her. His hand gripped her elbow, helped her to stand and steady herself as the world washed itself in color. The strange golden sparks crackled along her arm from his hand, strengthening her for the final attack. “One shot,” he called through the battle cry of the monster, “Can you make it without hitting the caretaker?”
She nodded mutely, straightening as her weapon was summoned a second time. With his hand at her back and a quick glance behind at the children, she set her feet and hefted the wand high in the air. Her voice was soft and pathetic, and she felt the energy draining from her body to arc toward the weapon and onward at the monster before her. The sizzling energy burned at her fingers painfully, sent ants crawling along her arms in weariness as the attack hurtled toward the monster, ending the painful shriek of anger that threatened to make her head explode.
The sudden unbearable weight of her body left her a slumping mess on the ground, aching head lowered as the spinning effect took it’s toll. She felt sick all over again, but was sure that any sign of her illness would only cause to enrage her quiet protector and get her yelled at from yet another side. She had no intention of letting him know about her stupid little escapade that nearly got her killed, but instead took the moment to steady herself before sending dazed blue eyes around the small yard.
Much to her relief, Tuxedo Kamen had beaten a hasty retreat after the attack, per norm, and left her to deal with whatever was left over. Though part of her truly despised that particular habit of his, she was also infinitely grateful that he’d chosen to do so today of all days. After all, one good look at her and the inconspicuous pile of vomit on the other side of the yard would be enough evidence for a conviction. She grimaced at her thoughts, forcing her jellied legs to work as she hefted herself up from the ground.
~~~~~~~~~~
Tuxedo Kamen watched in interest as the young woman surged to her feet. Her stance was wary and confused as she scanned the area cautiously, golden head turning toward the cowering children in concern first and foremost. The action brought a strange twitch in his chest, and he allowed himself little time to wonder curiously at his reaction as he watched her. She bent to check each one, long curves prominently displayed as she reached for them, touching their faces with all the tenderness of a mother.
The young girl was careful to examine each tiny bundle, leaving him completely baffled. She was wasting precious time, the news vans would be pulling up soon. Anyone within a mile and a half would have heard the explosions and come running. But she was still crouching there, fingers tugging playfully at one tiny baby as she grinned softly. Across the yard, the caretaker was beginning to come around, shifting uncomfortably on the grass and signaling the end had come for the delighted blond. Moon took one look at the recovering woman before placing the baby down into the grass again. Kamen shoved his earlier thoughts to the side resolutely, mouth trained into a grim smile as he watched her turn toward the city.
His timing would have to be immaculate; he’d never followed her despite selfish curiosity. Her civilian form was an honor he was willing to earn with time, so he wanted to be sure and catch her in uniform. He had no desire to rush things; the goal was a solid, permanent arrangement and absolute trust on both sides. However those two things might come, he was willing to sacrifice both pride and time to achieve them. The plans had been made far in advance, her reaction had been painstakingly prognosticated, and therefore all was within his mathematically engineered grasp. The grin became soft and confident as he quickly raced after the object of his infatuation.
His feelings, he was sure, spouted from a pure source within. He had known the effects of blind lust more than a few times, but what he felt for the young warrior was definitely more refined than just that. He’d been unimpressed at first, what with her shrieking helplessly like a frightened child. It was another point to women that he’d noted; place any woman in a dangerous situation and they’ll sit and scream blood murder till someone useful came along to save them.
She’d started out just like the rest of the simpering little nothings he’d been dealing with for years. But in time, she’d developed, grown stronger –and with that quickly tightening backbone of hers, so had his strangely reeling heart. Anymore it was all he could do to tear his hands free in time for her finishing attack. And, it was with the dawning realization of his obsession with her, that he knew these short little get-togethers were definitely not enough to satiate the need…
Of course she would have to find an appropriate place to de-transform, safely tucked away from the eyes of the world before making her way back into the crowds. It was with this thought that he followed for a good two miles before the Moon Senshi dropped down between two buildings, signaling his moment had come. At least she had the luxury of any old alleyway, he mused ironically to himself. Maybe if he could figure out a way to ditch the fan club for good he could do the same, and actually show up on time for once. He leapt down on the other end, careful not to make a sound as he landed and released the pent up energy swirling around his form.
Chiba Mamoru stood there moments later, raking a hand through his hair and checking farther down to make sure she hadn’t noticed any sudden movements. Her fingers were clawing at the choker around her pale neck, face flushed and breathing hampered. The sight was normal after a two mile run; it was a distance his little heroine could handle easily he was sure. He couldn’t have timed it better had he known how to; she was obviously hesitating to change back. He slinked forward carefully, eyes latched to her soft form lit by the gentle sunlight filtering in from above. He would have taken a moment to admire the long golden curls playing in the afternoon rays as he usually did, but time was a factor. Any moment she could de-transform and unknowingly surrender her identity to him.
“Excuse me,” he called softly, watching as her warrior instincts shot her up from against the building, fighter stance ready as she peered toward him. Apparently he had chosen the perfect hiding spot; she seemed unable to pierce the gloom with those soft silvery-blue eyes. He stalked toward the light slowly; afraid moving any faster would cause her to attack in a moment of confusion. Especially after a fight, he was asking to get hit by one of those nasty little roundhouse kicks he’d seen her throw when he arrived at the battle. Even the thought caused a ripple of attraction to erupt in his lower stomach as sunlight finally warmed his face.
He could see her visibly tense at his appearance, eyes slanting guardedly and the muscles in her legs tightening. She must have known he wasn’t going to attack; he didn’t exactly have anything gelatinous about him, or even an extra leg or arm or something. Her reaction to him was interesting to say the least. He held no particular preconceptions, after all Moon might never have heard of him if she only got out for battles, but he had been named the most eligible bachelor in Tokyo. The title must hold some sort of benefits; and if not the city’s most elusive heroine, then this world held no justice.
“Can I help you?” Her stance was defensive, tone closely guarded. He found himself glancing around the alley way once more to make sure they were alone. Should any of his fan club catch wind of this, he would never get a moment’s peace with her. She had haunted his fantasies for nearly a year and a half now, and he had every intention of making those dreams a reality. His eyes raked along her form quickly, re-enforcing his previous thoughts as they met with soft, defined curves. The fuku had to have been designed by a mastermind, tiny blue skirt bunched just at the waist, concave stomach in smooth white, perfect breasts hidden behind a teasing red bow. That was his most favorite part of the whole outfit, the fact that it both drew attention to her assets, yet still managed to hide enough to be sexy.
And as strange as the thought was, he was absolutely sure he hadn’t noticed those curves when they first met, or else he would have liked her from the beginning. Of course, that was impossible, he must have just not noticed or something. It was a moot point, and he had other things to worry about, anyway. One was the fact that she was quite tense and ready to spring; the other would be their less than romantic surroundings.
Cornered on every side by garbage and filth, it took all his concentration to will her eyes to lock against his. The shared gaze was filled with guarded confusion, no small amount of fear and, he was sure, attraction. The thought caused a simmering feeling to race through him, his eyes intense and burning against hers. With a confident little smirk, he realized that even Sailor Moon would make eyes at his civilian form, and with his mirroring affections, it would be the last relationship he’d ever have to worry about.
“Yes, actually.” He kept his tone cool and refined, his smile the dashing devil-may care piece that got him his last photo shoot. “My name is Chiba Mamoru,” he began smoothly, but was surprised at her sudden reaction. A flippant hand waved away the sense of intimacy he’d fought to create, and frustrated his perfectly set smile.
“I know who you are. What do you want?” she barked angrily, form tense and shifting as if he made her nervous. He stilled instantly, realizing she could run and easily evade the situation should he make even one faulty move. He had been through the chase many times, and had always won. This time, however, it began to dawn on the young man that he might actually have to put effort behind his advance –something he had never had to do before. A soft whistle broke past his lips in appreciation, noting both her words and demeanor.
“Well, I’m flattered, then.” He murmured softly, stuffing a hand in his pocket and slitting both eyes to look her over again. Though she professed to know him, he couldn’t see even a hint of a blush from where he stood. Not only that, but she seemed a little put off by him. Interesting. His eyes trailed over her form again, wondering if they had met somewhere along the way and he simply hadn’t recognized her in civilian clothes. But one glance at that figure told him definitely not. After all, it took more than just a few curves to catch his eye, and frankly Moon in any clothing would have done just that. His eyes flitted upward again, noting her hesitance and the near panicked look in her eyes before they slanted angrily again, her chin tilting upward in defiance.
“Did you want something? Because if not, I’ll…”
“No.” His self assured reply came as quickly as her anger, cutting her off mid sentence. “No, I did want to talk to you.” He sighed, shaking his head just enough to catch the sunlight and shatter it in the shadow of his hair. He was dragging the conversation out too long, setting her on edge. It definitely wasn’t what he’d been looking to do as he watched her carefully. She was nibbling at her lower lip nervously, and the sight nearly forced a lusty moan from his mouth before he could cut it off quickly. Ask her out first, then worry about getting a little closer. Determination fueled him then as he continued nonchalantly, forcing his eyes to lock against hers again “Actually, I was wondering if you might be willing to waste an evening on me.”
He had chosen his words carefully, allowing both for modesty and a proper amount of space should she back off. Had they met each other once in real life, there was no doubt in his mind that she would jump at the offer and swoon (in a pleasing manner) right into his arms. He was, after all, the biggest catch in all of Tokyo, one that could easily vie for her affections. And should she refuse, well, he knew she had a thing for Tuxedo Kamen as well, so it would all be the same in the end anyway. She was shaking her head softly, as if trying to disperse a cloud in her thoughts before looking back at him with an adorably furrowed brow.
“I’m sorry, would you say that again? I think I heard you wrong.” She murmured in disbelief. He had to force the wicked grin from his mouth, eyes softening predatorily as he took a few more steps toward her. Close enough to reach out and touch her now, he allowed the sweet feeling of victory to uncoil within him. Even she was surprised and flattered at his affections. One could almost hear him purr in contentment like a recently fed jaguar as her features softened from confusion and disbelief to something more intimate at his proximity. From here, he could smell the soft, feminine allure of her perfume, and felt a hungry rumble beginning low in his gut.
“I understand things might be difficult, given your occupation, but I think you’ll find I’m flexible.” One again, his words were carefully chosen, knowing that such a relationship would involve no small amount of difficulty should she choose to accept. Her cheeks flushed prettily in the afternoon sunlight as he watched her piece together the conversation in her mind slowly. “How about dinner at my apartment? It’s safe, inconspicuous…”
“You’re asking me out?” She sputtered confusedly, eyes impossibly wide and body tense. “But I’m Sailor Moon!” she all but screamed, as if that alone would be the obvious breaking factor. His grin became lazy, eyes trailing down from hers in sweet appreciation of her long, curvy form. It was the longest he’d ever stood close to her for, and it did things to his insides any fully clothed woman shouldn’t be allowed to do. Her flushing cheeks darkened at his wandering eyes, again causing the simmering feeling of contentment in his lower abdomen. The beautiful warrior was obviously heating up, and he had every intention of keeping her that way.
“Trust me,” he all but purred at her, “I noticed.”
He watched as her eyes became impossibly wide, a shiver breaking across her skin. She had that look of a woman who knew she’d been caught, and knew full well what came next. He had to squash the sense of victory, knowing the blond put up the best fight when cornered. Yet her jaw unhinged the slightest bit, eyes glazed in what he could only assume as passion, and her body tensed beautifully. He didn’t even have to take the extra step to close the distance between them, any moment now the girl would simply launch herself into his arms and finish the conversation with a kiss she was obviously dying for.
But a moment later sent that thought crashing to pieces as her mouth closed, eyes clouded in thought. He was still confident, though, having known she would be a challenge. No doubt she was wondering what would happen between them after the dinner, whereas Mamoru held no doubts. It was all in love, though, certainly not lust. After all, he’d known the girl for a year and a half, and his affections certainly weren’t just for her body. There were other things about her that he admired quite deeply, he reminded himself, and she would simply have to recognize that his intentions (though not entirely pure) were from the heart she’d helped him discover.
“I’m sorry.” She murmured, straightening her position and returning to her earlier demeanor. The triumphant grin slid from his face at her words, body suddenly tense as he realized exactly what was going to happen. “I cannot accept your offer. I have no time for such things. Excuse me.”
A moment later, she was leaping up toward the roofs, and leaving a very shocked and outraged young man behind her. She had refused? Why?! He had the looks, the money, the brains; he could easily get any girl he wanted –so why had she so blatantly declined? She…maybe wasn’t herself today? For a split second, she had seemed so human, so normal… and she had looked at him in the most intriguing way with those silvery blue eyes. He had almost called an early victory at the soft look in them, had been seconds from reaching out to take her into his arms and steal the first kiss….
His mouth tightened into a thin line at the memory of her last little sad look in his direction. It had leaked out from behind the aloof air she’d tried to throw him. He had caught the inner struggle going through those silvery blue eyes, had watched as she warred within herself…it had to be something else. In the end, she had lost to some previous variable he would never know. Whatever it was obviously hurt her, made her more distant, more angry. Yes, something was definitely wrong. Her actions had been exactly opposite of what he would have assumed given her personality…
Concern for the young super hero fueled with desire sent him bolting after her, this time in uniform. She had already made it a few blocks by the time he finally caught sight of her, it would take a few more before he was close enough to slip around her and hide behind a service door a few buildings ahead. His movements could have been calculated, for moments later she landed calmly on this last roof, form perfectly outlined by the red blaze of a dying summer day. Golden curls not unlike a war banner flew back from her body in the salty ocean breeze that whistled past her.
Kamen watched mutely for a moment of shear male appreciation as the long, curvy lines of her body were clearly outlined in hues that seemed too harsh and masculine for one so tiny. It was in this moment that he witnessed something that even he, whom had been with her from the very start, had never expected. One long, white gloved hand rose to her face, glistening like diamonds in the course of tears wiped from her perfect eyes. It was something that, given recent context, should not be happening. After all, Sailor Moon was a girl, just like any other girl (except with powers and responsibility) and therefore should have been overjoyed at the recent declaration of love from one of the most eligible bachelors in all of Japan.
Instead, she cried softly to the oncoming night, pulling those long, lightly muscled arms around her shivering form despite the heat that permeated both skin and bone. It called to him, begged him for some form of comfort. Yet, once again, the context showed all to the contrary. Instead, he stepped a few feet closer to her, eyes trained easily to her golden hair, wishing she would turn and face him. She either could not hear the silent pleas, or pointedly refused and ignored them. It was enough that even he, Tuxedo Kamen, felt the sting within his chest as her head lowered in abject sorrow.
He had never known Sailor Moon on a personal level of any kind. Of course, there were all outward signs which any fool could follow, that she was imperfect and childish, that her sweetness and compassion quickly outweighed any sense of personal danger or logic. But none of this information had ever reached a deep, abiding level. It was for this reason he felt the need for caution, masking his true identity even further within the shrouds of his cloak. He had only known her on the surface, as a warrior. Hence, he had hoped to reach the more profound, inner aspect of the woman that lay beneath all the bravado, the speeches, and the very short skirt. He had hoped more than anything that she would accept him in his human form such that the trust could be gained with time. Certainly he had never expected her outright refusal, given his alter-ego’s pristine reputation. Given how he was viewed by the other Senshi, it had seemed like the perfect plan to win her affections. His mouth tightened into a firm line at his final step.
“Moon?” His smooth voice all but rippled through the oncoming air as she stilled. The nearly invisible shaking of her shoulders eased, giving them a very downcast slant as she turned slowly to face him. The crystalline tears still falling from her eyes captured and refracted the fading light with an intensity that easily could have blinded him had he been at all a weaker man. Despite the raging attraction he felt at her nearness, he strengthened his resolve and stepped forward a little more until her cute little face was forced to look up at him. “What’s wrong? He didn’t…say anything, did he?”
The words where weighted correctly, though he knew the answer, such that the perfectly formed Amazon before him would never have guessed it was him. She shook her head silently, turning her face toward the last moments of an agonized sunset blazing across the multifaceted waters. Her eyes held that same intensity; that strange feeling of a dying glory mirrored before them. The thought caused his chest to tighten unbearably as yet another salty track burned itself to her softly illuminated cheek.
“I have to admit, I’m a little surprised.” He stated softly, careful to reel in the unmistakable urge to gather her up and soak the strange grief from her usually happy persona. “I would have thought an attractive girl your age would have leapt at the chance to date the mysterious Chiba Mamoru.”
Devastation distorted the angelic lines of her face as a feeble, agonized laugh scratched hard nails against the tender moment. Such a broken laugh he considered a sacrilege on the usually upturned little mouth. One hand traveled up to cup her forehead as she bent once more in despair, heavy sobs beating against the smooth line of her shoulders. He could no longer restrain himself as tuxedo clad arms bunched around her shivering form and hauled her tight against his chest. Her hair, whipped by the wind, returned the embrace that she did not. And though she seemed grateful for his concern and time, her eyes did not lift to meet his, her arms were crossed resolutely around herself, and the sobs ripped at her small form with an intensity that both shocked and frightened the young college man.
“I’m so sorry, Tuxedo Kamen-sama,” she choked after regaining herself and quickly wound her way free of him. Even her hair seemed to retract as the breeze shifted direction in the early twilight. He couldn’t help but feel…colder now that the bundle of sunshine gold was no longer held close against him. In the quickly darkening night, he could see that the curve of her shoulders was still alarmingly unsteady and that she seemed much more pale than usual. The rising moon was but a small sliver in the velvety blue-violet sky, hardly showing a wink of it’s naturally silver light as they stood quietly, regarding each other through separate masks.
“What happened, Sailor Moon? Why are you so…different after meeting with him? Did he hurt you? Did he…touch you?” Behind the impenetrable white domino mask, he truly felt concern, wondering if he had said something offensive (as was his nature) and not known it. But, retracing the short conversation in his mind, he reassured himself that, in fact, there had not been one word she could have taken wrongly. He had simply asked for an evening along with her. So why…why was she crying so brokenly now? Why did her usually bright eyes seem so shadowed in pain and loneliness? Why did she not even care to be comforted by her much adored hero?
“No…no of course not…” she whispered between gasps of cool night air. Her chest was heaving with the effort it took to control the earth shattering sobs and she trembled helplessly before the shiver crawling along her spine. Obviously, he had not been the only one to register the change in temperature. Immediately, the cloak was swung from his back to envelope the young hero. She did not even bother to raise a hand to hold it in place against the oncoming wind.
“Am I to gather, then, that your affections are being saved for another?” he paused for a moment, a sly grin lightening the mood. “Me, perhaps?” Despite his obvious attempt to draw her attention from whatever it was that bothered her, she did not to rise to the occasion. Instead a bitter, self mocking laugh fell from her sweet mouth to shatter the light mood like fine glass. The shards left behind scraped and cut against his conscience as she curled herself even tighter beneath the cloak.
“Please, Tuxedo Kamen-sama. Like I could ever be more than just a charge to you.” She paused to sniffle as the weight of her silent accusation found place among the earlier wounds left by her laugh. “The only reason you even save me is because I’m too stupid and slow to save myself anyway.” Had she left him enough room to object, it wouldn’t have mattered. Processing the information even at his speed could never have produced a logical answer in the short span of her weak coughing and shivering.
“The truth is,” she continued, unperturbed by his shocked silence as her shame-filled gaze focused on the red tips of her boots poking out beneath black velvet. “I-I do…” the breath left her lungs before she could finish the statement. Undeterred, though, she gasped in another as a strange sense of strength came to her weakening form. “I do love him. So much that…so much it hurts. But,” she paused again to allow for a sudden hiccup to betray the faulty strength that had moments before possessed her shivering body. “But he…” another shiver broke the sentence in pieces as her eyes once more rose to meet the city skyline behind him. “…doesn’t love me.”
The weighted moment forced all earlier thoughts from Tuxedo Kamen’s mind as her soft words threaded out like fingers into the quickly dimming night. But it was impossible for her statement to be true. He was himself the same Chiba Mamoru who had just barely declared his love for the young Senshi, and had waited with baited breath to hear her heart-wrenching refusal. Once again, it was completely impossible for the reality of her words to shed any light on the current situation, and silently forbade his superior intellect the ability to find even one logical scrap behind her accusation.
But then, it hit him. He could never love her, the girl behind the Senshi. The reasoning behind her subtle words struck a very sensitive cord in his chest as he realized that behind the self-assured warrior before him lay a very human, very young girl –who no doubt, had taken one look at what others had deemed ‘perfection’ and ran in the opposite direction in fear. It was such a human reaction that the young man actually felt his jaw unhinge a little in utter disbelief. He had never assumed that behind the short skirt and cute button nose was an insecure, very human, girl.
“You don’t know that.” He murmured gently, an alien gentleness coaxing his voice in a way he’d never heard it before. “If you love him, you should have given him the benefit of the doubt. Given time, he would have accepted you no matter who you are.” A betraying smile crept across his face as he gazed at her. “You’re too amazing not to.”
Neither his words nor his eyes could comfort her, though. Too far gone in the shadow of despair, she hunched over in the cloak, turning away from her dark savior in a move that deftly blocked him and his comfort out of her consciousness. Her stubborn refusal and quick reaction ripped the strange feeling of humanity from his chest and replaced it with the ice he had felt there his whole life. It was an unpleasant emotion, and one he had been sure would never have been caused by her. After all, it was her sunny disposition and crazy antics that had first caught his attentions at their fated meeting. Now, it seemed, her role had changed her completely beneath the refining pressure of responsibility and self-control.
“You don’t seem to understand,” Her voice barely registered above the sudden gust of wind that ripped the cloak from her shoulders and lost it to the darkness around them. She had taken the short moment to calm her breathing, and now spoke dispassionately to the air around them, her statements born on a pain far deeper than he could understand. “I have already spoken to Mamoru-san. He told me himself, in no uncertain terms, that he could never love me. Just some shadow of myself that happens to have a glamour. Some sick sliver of myself that has now taken everything from me that I ever cared about. And in some ridiculous show of irony, she’s the only part of me that will ever be worthy of praise.
"My parents are disgusted with me because they think I am some brain-dead, irresponsible teenager that sneaks out in the middle of the night for no reason. My teachers all think that I’m some retarded freak that can’t seem to do her homework or even score reasonably on a test. All of my friends that I had before have been taken from me because I’m terrified they’ll get hurt –and all of the new friends that I have now are only because they share in the responsibility. And now Mamoru-san…” she choked over the fast words spilling from her soul like a bleeding wound begging to rid itself of rotten puss, yet stumbling because there was so much left unsaid. “Even he loves her…not me. Never me.”
He had remained silent during the painfully accusing tirade she offered brokenly to the night. In a strange sense, he felt as if he had intruded on her innermost thoughts. They were the demons even she had not bothered to face before his declaration had ripped open the door. His near silent curse at his own stupidity was whispered to the vacant, uncaring starlight above them.
The steady, beating rhythm of the salty waves did nothing to calm the burning self-doubt and idiocy that threatened to bury him alive. One would think that he, of all people, would have been more sensitive to the fact that his one true love had another side to her. All earlier comments were completely erased beneath the cold, uncaring hand he’d dealt her unknowingly.
“Sailor Moon,” he called a moment later over the clash of his shoes against cement. She turned her head just enough to peer over one perfectly curved shoulder. The wind blew a strand of that glorious hair across her face, lodging against the tears the wind had not yet whipped from her cheeks. He stepped closer, till they’re bodies were nearly touching and the cool summer night air barely whistled between them. “I would accept you.” His voice was raw and desperate, his fingers tugging the stray hair from her face. “I would accept you!” the hand that had wiped away her tears deftly gripped the perfect curve of her neck and skull such that she had no choice but to look up at him through unnaturally thick lashes. His breathing was deep and even despite the rage glowing behind the iridescent white mask; exactly opposite to hers which mingled against his mouth in short, almost terrified gasps.
“I didn’t fall for you simply because you wore a mini skirt, or danced around giving speeches to half crazed monsters from hell. And even though your right hook is pretty amazing for a girl, I’m definitely not in love with you for it.” The other hand reached upward to knock the top hat from his head and sent the white domino mask fluttering into the depths of night. “I fell in love with your smile.”
Only silence met him as he stared down at her through shaded eyes. It took a bare moment before recognition slithered across her features and she ripped herself away from him. Her reaction, though tightening the aching throb in his chest, had been exactly as he would have imagined it only a moment before. Horrified at her unwitting confession mere minutes before the mask finally fell from his heavy blue eyes, the young woman could barely remain standing as she skittered across the rooftop on unsteady legs. He grimly let her go for a moment, allowing the precious space she needed in the wake of such a closely guarded secret, then followed at an even pace. Finally, her legs could hold out no more as she crashed to her knees in shock. The curly, golden curtain of her hair quickly sheltered her small form to his view. Instead of pressing the matter, as he so dearly wanted to do, he simply stood there for a moment, regarding her shaking body in the shadows.
“I…love,” he began again, afraid his earlier confession hadn’t been enough to prove his intentions to her, “that you sacrifice your safety to keep the other Senshi from getting hurt. I love that you put your whole heart and soul into something you obviously hate just to keep your friends safe. And I…” he paused, a shudder of pleasure rippling through him at the thought, “I love that you tremble in my arms. God, I love when you do that…”
His words seemed to fall on deaf ears as the wind continued to whistle cheerfully past them. He watched, mesmerized as her soft curls unwound in midair, how her Senshi uniform swished magically across creamy thighs and the scent of her girlish vanilla-laced perfume mingled with ocean and night musk. Though her shoulders were still unsteady, and though she shivered helplessly against the wind, she did not move to look at him. Pristine white gloves clutched at her arms till he could see the visible discoloration in the half light surrounding them, and her fingers seemed taut with the pressure being exerted.
He stood helplessly by, missing the usually comforting weight of his cloak hanging from his shoulders. By now, it had probably carried far enough away to dissipate into whatever it was that made it. His thoughts would not follow that particular path, though; he was much too concerned at her silence. She had already refused him once today, and to hear her even attempt to do so again would put a rather serious damper on his spirits. Not that it would deter him, of course, she’d already admitted to returning said feelings. It meant that in all probability she would soon succumb to them, as he had, and the beautiful little warrior would finally –finally be his.
The gloves on his hands loosened as he came forward, his eyes trained on the waterfall of shimmering golden locks currently blocking his view from her face. He had wanted for so long just to touch the teasingly fine tresses, out of curiosity alone for the texture. The few times he’d been lucky enough to feel it touch his face had been split second rescues, where safety had been paramount, and attraction an afterthought. But now, when she was kneeling before him, very much in need of comfort, he could indulge a little in the fantasy. Her shoulder was still shaking as his fingers brushed the exquisite fabric of her fuku, lifting a single golden tress long enough to feel it curl around his hand.
Her arms lashed out, slapping his touch away as she stumbled to her feet, eyes wide and angry. He had seen the look many times, as she had delivered an enraged speech or attack, and could easily see the mask of anger she hid behind. Her eyes flashed dangerous sapphire, lips in an adorably thin line and face flush with wrath. This…was not at all what he’d been expecting…
“You showed me this because…what, you love me? You trust me?” He nodded the affirmative, watching her curiously as she came forward on sure feet. The clack of her legendary red boots reverberated in the silence like a death chant as she closed the distance between them. “Maybe you should have paid more attention to that right hook!”
A moment later, all he felt was the blinding pain of his nose being smashed beneath her fist before his head slammed into the pavement. Stunned, angry curses spewed from his normally calm mouth. He clutched at his gushing face in shock as the darkness closed around him.
