Sailormoon opened her eyes, grimacing at the pain that still throbbed in her side. That was definitely gonna leave a mark; she’d have to come up with some excuse should her parents discover it and start asking questions. Well, you see, Okaa-san, I met this centaur in the park—you know, one of the Greek mythology creatures—and he didn’t like me very much… The thought caused a smile to touch her lips as she imagined her mother’s reaction to that excuse.

"I’m glad to see you’re feeling well enough to smile."

She blinked at the soft, deep voice, realizing for the first time that she was being held, cradled against a warm chest with gentle arms surrounding her, a gloved hand softly stroking her face. Sitting up abruptly was perhaps the wrong thing to do, as her side protested painfully. Grimacing, she looked up to meet a white-masked gaze, a hint of deep blue eyes regarding her worriedly, although a slight smile was hovering on the sensuous mouth. She frowned. "Tuxedo Kamen-sama," she murmured, looking around. "Did I get it?"

The smile widened. "You got it."

"And I’m still alive?!"

Her voice was incredulous, causing a soft laugh to escape his lips. "Yes, you’re still alive…although you promptly fainted as soon as soon as you dusted the youma."

She grimaced again. "How heroic of me," she muttered. Then she glanced up at him. "Er…thanks for the help…as usual. I didn’t think I was gonna make it this time."

A frown touched his lips. "Where were your Senshi? Why were you fighting that creature alone?" he demanded roughly, his worry putting an edge into his voice that made her blink.

She blushed a little and looked away. "Er…it was my fault. I kinda forgot my communicator…but it’s been so quiet I didn’t even think of anything happening!" she defended herself quickly when he frowned.

"Nevertheless, that was a foolish mistake," he scolded gently.

"Yeah, yeah. Go ahead and yell," she muttered, struggling out of his arms. He was so much more pleasant when he wasn’t going all Father Hen on her… "I’m used to it by now…even though I did take care of that monster all by myself!" She raised her chin proudly and dared him to say otherwise.

"Almost at the cost of your life," he replied quietly. "Don’t you understand? You are this world’s savior. Without you, there will be nothing stopping the Negaverse from taking over."

"The Senshi are still here," she pointed out.

"But you are the most powerful."

"Ha! As if! All I have is a stupid tiara! Mars and Jupiter and even Mercury have awesome attacks! I only get to play frisbee! What’s so special about that?"

He cocked his head. "It seems to me you’re wallowing in self pity," he replied dryly.

"Yeah? So sue me! I’m allowed to wallow!" she sniffed. "I just dusted a pretty big youma, and all you can do is scold me like some little kid. The least you can say is good job, Usa…er…Sailormoon! You’re wonderful!" She fought the blush at her near slip-of-tongue and prayed that he hadn’t noticed.

He blinked at her. "Does my opinion mean that much to you?" he asked.

Her brow furrowed as she turned away, laying a hand over her aching side. "Hai, of course it does," she muttered. "You’ve been with me from the very beginning. I’d like to think I’ve made some sort of impression on you." Hopefully not a bad one, she added silently. "I know I’m not the greatest fighter in the world. I’m clumsy and I’m careless and I admit that I’m more than a little scared all the time…demo…I do try. I didn’t run away today, as much as I wanted to. I knew I could die, but I knew what I had to do, and I did it. Doesn’t that mean anything?"

A soft footstep, the rustle of his cape, and gentle arms surrounded her. "Sumanu," he breathed softly. "You’re right. It does mean something, and I am proud of you, even if I don’t always tell you. You scared me to death just now. I thought you would be trampled. But you faced your fears like a true heroine, and you conquered them. I could not be prouder."

"Arigatou," she replied softly. "That means a great deal to me." She sighed and stepped away from his arms. "I suppose I’d better get home now, and I guess you want to, as well."

"Make sure you get a doctor to look at your side," he instructed, touching it carefully. "And make sure you tell the Senshi what happened, as well."

"Are you kidding?" Sailormoon giggled evilly. "I can’t wait to rub Mars’s face in the fact that I beat a youma all by myself! She’ll be so stunned, even though I know she’ll act all pissed off at me. And if she doesn’t believe me, I’ve got you as a witness!"

He laughed despite himself at her gleeful expression. "Try to take better care of yourself in the future," he requested. "I really don’t want to see you get killed."

She snorted. "A little knock in the side? Naah. It’ll take a lot more than that to get rid of me!" she teased. Then she grimaced. "Besides, I can’t go yet. I’ve got some boy problems to work through first."

"Boy problems?"

"Oh, it’s nothing serious. Just some guy giving me grief," she related cheerfully. "No need to worry about it. Well…Ja ne! Have a good night!" She smiled at him brilliantly, then turned and vanished into the shadows.

Tuxedo Kamen watched her go, trying to shake a sudden sense of deja vu, a sense that he knew her from somewhere. Then, shaking his head at himself, he turned and headed home, as well.

Usagi grimaced as she walked into the arcade on Friday afternoon, trying not to squirm as the waistband of her skirt chafed the large, ugly bruise—which looked suspiciously like the impression of a rather large hoof—that marked her side. It was painful, to say the least, but she hadn’t dared tell her parents about it, and she knew she couldn’t see her family doctor on her own. She didn’t have the money to pay for a doctor, for one thing, and he’d call her parents anyway for another. She’d have a lot of explaining to do if they saw the bruise; there were no horses in Tokyo, after all. At least none that could leave a bruise that big.

Still grimacing, she ordered a soda, thankful that Motoki didn’t appear to be around and therefore would not ask any uncomfortable questions—he had an uncanny knack for noticing whenever anything was wrong with her—then took her drink and slid into a booth beside the window, staring out into the street distractedly. Her side burned painfully for a moment at the movement, then settled down into a dull throb. I wonder if that’s normal. I hope I’m not hurt worse than I thought, she speculated, although she couldn’t ever remember hearing about anyone dying of a bruise before. Still, she didn’t feel quite herself. Maybe she should have stayed home from school, but she couldn’t come up with a suitable excuse that wouldn’t make her mother—or Luna, for that matter—suspicious. Luna knew all about the fight, but she didn’t know Usagi had been hurt in it.

She was so deep in thought that she didn’t even notice that Mamoru had arrived until he slid into the seat beside her. She blinked, looking up at him like she hadn’t even recognized him for a moment. Then she frowned and looked away from him as she concentrated on finishing her soda, remembering that she was mad at him for his strange behavior yesterday.

"Don’t tell me you’re back on the Silent Treatment spiel again," he said wryly. "I thought you said yesterday you were gonna forgive me."

"That was before you decided to go and act like a jackass again," she replied flippantly. "So I changed my mind. Go away."

He tsked. "Now, Odango, I think you’ve been hanging around Makoto-chan too much. You’re starting to sound like her," he teased.

"I am? Good. She’ll be glad to know her lessons aren’t a complete waste," Usagi retorted irritably. "Now…can you tell me what ‘go away’ means? Or better yet, why don’t you show me." She made little shooing motions with her hand, and he grinned at her.

"And here I thought you would’ve wanted company," he replied playfully. "I’m not used to seeing you here all by yourself." He reached out and impishly tugged on a ponytail.

"Oi! Dame!" she snapped, reaching up to make sure he hadn’t messed her hair up. As her arms lifted, the blouse of her uniform rode up slightly, just enough to reveal the ugly bruise gracing her ribs. It was exposed only for a moment before she lowered her arms again, and anyone else might not have even noticed. But Mamoru, who happened to glance down at that exact moment, did.

"Usagi-chan! What happened to your side?" he gasped, his eyes widening in shock.

"N-nani?" she squeaked, giving him a wide eyed look as her hand quickly covered the area. "Nan demo nai! J-just a little accident…"

His eyes narrowed. "What kind of an accident?" he asked. "Did somebody hit you?"

"Nani?" she squealed. "Don’t be ridiculous! Of course not!"

"What happened then?" he demanded.

She glared at him, realizing that he wasn’t about to let the subject drop. "I got hit by a…by a soccer ball…in gym class," she muttered, praying she could lie well enough to fool him. "We were playing a game, and I ended up being the goalie." She managed a faint grin and shrugged. "I stopped the ball," she added inanely, trying to look as innocent as possible. Then she noticed with concern that Mamoru’s face had turned very pale and he was staring at her side intently. "Mamoru-baka? Daijabu?" she asked in alarm.

His gaze focused on her with a single-minded intent, and she gulped and attempted to inch away from him; a rather difficult thing considering she was already against the wall… "You got hit by a soccer ball," he repeated slowly.

"H-hai."

"In the side."

"Hai, that’s what I said! What’s wrong with you?" she snapped. "Can you get out now? I want to leave!" She did not like the way he was looking at her, as though he was trying to figure something out. As though he was trying to see in her eyes all the secrets she sought to hide from the world…

Slowly, he slid out of the booth, and she hastily scrambled out after him, ignoring the sharp twinge in her side that protested the sudden movement. She snatched her bag and turned on her heel to hightail it out of there, feeling more than a little relieved that he was going to let her go…but then a strong hand clamped over her wrist and she abruptly found herself being dragged to the back of the arcade. "Oi! What do you think you’re doing?!" she yelped, prying uselessly at his fingers as he dragged her into what looked like an employee lounge and shut the door behind him. "What are you, some kind of Neanderthal?!" she snapped.

"I doubt you even know what a Neanderthal is," he snorted, releasing her wrist.

"I do so know what it is!" she yelled, glaring at him as she clutched her wrist protectively. "You open that door right now!"

He ignored her, naturally. "Lift your shirt," he commanded in a tone that brooked for no argument.

"NANI?!" Her eyes bugged as she gaped at him. "Mamoru-baka no hentai! If you even think of trying anything I’ll belt you into the next millennium!" she yelled, brandishing a fist.

He rolled his eyes. "You baka! What do you think I’m gonna do?" he snorted. "Look, I’m a first year medical student, and you have a rather nasty bump on your side. I only want to make sure you’re okay." He also wanted to confirm a nagging suspicion he had about a certain identity that he now suspected she was hiding from him. I’m being awfully calm about this, he thought dryly. I mean, if I’m right, than everything between the two of us is about to change. Every perception I ever had of Odango is going to be thoroughly smashed into dust. Shouldn’t I be more…panicked or something?

Maybe he should have been…but he wasn’t. Somehow, it just didn’t surprise him that his clumsy, adorable little Odango could be the great and powerful Sailormoon. Everything else in his life was weird enough. Why not this as well? But what’s going to happen with us then? he wondered. Will this knowledge bring us closer together…or will it tear us further apart? He could only pray for the best, and if he really was right… Well, he had to approach this subject with caution, unless he wanted to scare his Odango away from him for good.

In the meantime, Usagi was looking a little embarrassed at her outburst and his scolding reply. "W-well…we aren’t supposed to be back here," she told him in weak protest. "This is for employees only."

He grinned at her. "Yeah, well, there are benefits to being the best friend of the owner of the arcade," he replied smugly.

"Nani? Motoki-san owns this place?!" Her jaw dropped. "I never knew that!"

"His family owns it," Mamoru corrected. "I suppose eventually Motoki-san will inherit it from his parents. He loves running it, and it’s a good business." As he talked he busied himself at the kitchenette, filling a bowl with ice from the small freezer. "Hop up onto the counter here," he instructed.

She frowned, still regarding him suspiciously as she braced her hands on the counter to push herself up, grunting as the effort pulled at her side. "Like I said, try anything and you’ll be wearing dentures the rest of your life, ‘cause I’ll knock your teeth down into your feet," she warned him.

He laughed at her and shook his head, his hair flopping playfully into his eyes, and she had to fight the urge to brush it away again. He’s being obnoxious, she reminded herself. You’re supposed to be mad at him at the moment. Think about how gorgeous he looks later…preferably when you’re not with him.

Mamoru approached her, giving her that look again that made her want to crawl into a crack and hide. What was he trying to see? Dropping his gaze, he reached out and gripped the hem of her shirt, carefully lifting it just enough to reveal the dark welt on her fair skin. His breath caught at the sight; the clear image of a hoofprint—extending down below her waistline—that was too large to have come from any normal horse. A centaur, perhaps? "Oh, Usagi…" he murmured, very gently touching the wound. "Did you have anyone look at this? It looks like it hurts."

"No kidding. What, did you take a class on stating the obvious, or is that a natural ability?" she asked smartly, squirming uncomfortably beneath his unusually gentle touch as he carefully probed the bruise. And she didn’t know what to make of the tender note in his voice when he’d said her name. She had never heard it before, although…she rather liked it.

He was frowning slightly as he met her gaze. "You say a soccer ball hit you," he stated.

"Hai!" she replied, exasperated. "Didn’t we go over this already? I blocked the ball from reaching the goal! We won the game, even!"

"I see. Because I was just going to say that this looks very much like you got kicked in the side by a very large horse."

Her expression went from annoyed to shocked in a single moment, and she blanched. "I…I don’t know what you’re talking about. It’s only a coincidence," she stammered. "It wasn’t any horse…"

Well, that’s true at least, Mamoru thought wryly. A centaur isn’t exactly a horse… He sighed and shook his head slowly as he found a hand towel in one of the drawers. His suspicions were now confirmed. Odango Atama was Sailormoon. His innocent little Usagi was the Champion of Justice. Whoever would have thought? He fought the urge to be angry at her for keeping such a secret from him, knowing it was irrational; after all, he was keeping a pretty big secret from her, as well, and hadn’t considered ever telling her about it. Until now. But what would her reaction be if she ever found out that her perfect dream hero turned out to be…well, less than perfect? She’d be disappointed to find out that her biggest crush (besides Motoki) was her worst enemy.

Shaking his head again to clear it of unpleasant thoughts, he filled the thin towel with ice and tied it, then pressed it gently to her side. She yelped and attempted to avoid the makeshift ice pack, but he merely placed his free hand on her waist to hold her still. "Now behave yourself," he scolded gently. "Ice is the best way to help the swelling go down. Now, does it hurt to breathe or anything like that? Any sharp pain when you take a deep breath?"

She rolled her eyes, using irritation to cover up the nervousness she felt at having his hands touch her like that. "Oh, good grief! It’s just a bruise! I didn’t crack any ribs, and I think I’d know if I had punctured a lung or something."

"Just making sure," he murmured, before adding slyly, "You can never be too careful where…soccer balls are concerned, after all."

She shot him a narrow-eyed glance. "I’m not even gonna ask what little innuendo you were trying to drop with that one," she sniffed, making him grin.

"Don’t know what you mean," he replied. "Here, just hold this on for awhile to help the swelling go down. It’s possible you have some internal bruising, as well. You really should go see a doctor or something."

"I thought you were a doctor," she pouted.

"I’m a medical student. There’s a difference," he replied wryly. "For instance, if you need your side cut open to relieve any internal hemorrhaging, I wouldn’t recommend coming to me for that." When he saw her face go pale, he hastily added, "Not that you need that or anything! I was just stating an example!"

"Ne, and you can be the very first doctor-in-training to cause a fourteen year old girl to keel over from heart failure!" she retorted, sticking out her tongue at him. "That would make your teachers proud!"

He laughed at her, reaching up to playfully ruffle her hair. "You have such a gift for exaggeration, Odango," he teased.

She ducked away and pouted up at him. "Baka! What is it with you and my hair?" she complained. "Why is my hair such a source of amusement for you, ne? I swear I’m gonna cut it all off, then you can’t tease me about it anymore!"

"Iie!" His reply was so vehement that she blinked up at him. "Don’t you dare cut it," he added quietly, fingering a long ponytail. "It’d be a shame to ruin such gorgeous hair on my account."

"G-gorgeous?" she squeaked, giving him a wide-eyed glance. "You think my hair’s gorgeous?"

"Hai," he admitted softly. "Very much so." Before she knew what he was up to, deft fingers quickly found and removed the pins holding her hair in their odango, and silken locks of gold fell down around his arms, pooling in his hands as he gently ran his fingers through the soft strands. She stared up at him through wide, astonished eyes, two small flames burning in her cheeks, too surprised to even think about yelling at him. Besides…the way he was looking at her; the way his hands now so carefully cupped her face…she didn’t think she could yell if she wanted to.

"Mamoru-san?" she questioned nervously. "N-nani…?"

"Kirei…" he whispered, gazing at her through lidded eyes. "So beautiful…"

Her own eyes widened even further as her hands came up to grip his wrists. He was so close. So…very…close… H-he’s going to kiss me! she realized as his face lowered to close the distance between them, his eyes slipping shut. He’s actually going to kiss me! He’s…matte. She frowned. Do I want him to kiss me?

Yatta! another part of her exclaimed elatedly. Of course you do! This is what you’ve been dreaming of, ne?

Oh, yeah… She closed her eyes, waiting in breathless anticipation. His breath danced warmly across her lips, making her feel lightheaded and dizzy. Her heart was pounding and her stomach was turning cartwheels. And just as she felt the softest touch of silk against her lips…the ice-filled towel laying forgotten on her lap chose that moment to slip off of it, the tie loosening and its freezing contents spilling with little clatters all over the tile floor.

And, just like that, the warmth was gone.

Usagi slowly opened her eyes and looked around in confusion. Nani? What happened? Mamoru was on the floor, his ears suspiciously red as he hurriedly gathered the scattered ice and threw the chunks back into the bowl. He didn’t make eye contact, and she had the oddest feeling that he was…embarrassed about what had almost happened. Shinji nai, she thought, tears stinging her eyes. Something that I’ve been dreaming about for heaven-knows-how-long happens, and now he doesn’t even look happy about it! Temporary insanity on his part, that’s what it was! Why did I actually think he wanted to kiss me? It was probably another stupid little prank, that’s all.

She slipped off the counter and grabbed her bag, waiting until his back was turned before she hurried to the door and yanked it open. He heard her, of course, and turned just in time to see her run out of the room, her golden hair streaming behind her. "Usa, matte!" he called out, suddenly panicked. He had the feeling that if he lost her now, he’d never see her again. Leaving the ice on the floor, he hurried after her, but she had already disappeared and he had to fight the urge to beat his head against the wall. Baka, baka, baka! he snarled at himself. Why did you do that? Why did you try to kiss her like that? What must she think of you now?

If only he’d ignored that cursed ice, had finished what he had started. He’d been so close! He had been so close to finally telling her how he really felt about her, if only in deeds and not words. If he’d kissed her…she would have no doubt. But the sudden disruption had broken his concentration, had reminded him of who she was…of who he was…and he had panicked. "It was too soon. I should have told her who I was first, and that I knew who she was," he muttered. But then she might have thought he loved Sailormoon rather than Usagi, and that wasn’t the case. He did love Sailormoon, it was true…but now that was because she was Usagi.

He groaned softly and dropped his head. When had this whole mess become so confusing?! It had been so much simpler when Usagi was Usagi and Mamoru was Mamoru and they both knew exactly where things stood. But now he had to find a way to convince Usagi that he did love her, and to convince her that it wasn’t Tuxedo Kamen she loved, but rather Mamoru…

His head lifted as he suddenly recalled the shadowed hope he’d seen flickering briefly in her eyes, and his heart thumped painfully in his chest for a moment as a slow smile touched his lips. If the stunned, longing expression on her face had been any indication…it really shouldn’t be all that difficult a job to convince her. He hoped.