She was leaving.

Chiba Mamoru eavesdropped shamelessly as he watched his best friend, Furuhata Motoki, and his arch-rival, Tsukino Usagi, talking together a few feet away from him at the Sailor V video game. From his vantage point—safely hidden behind the all-popular Crane Game—he was able to make out snatches of their conversation over the noise of the arcade.

And what he heard did not please him at all.

"Leaving…America…Otou-san’s job…long time…" Usagi’s voice, sounding young and excited like a little kid discussing what she’s getting for Christmas, exclaimed eagerly.

Mamoru’s hands clenched into fists at Motoki’s clearly enthusiastic reply. "…wonderful time…opportunity…great experience…miss you…"

Wonderful time?! An opportunity?! Was the man insane?! Mamoru growled deep in his throat as he glared at the back of his best friend’s head. He loved the guy like a brother, but at the moment he wished lasers would suddenly shoot out of his eyes—like that American comic book hero, Superman—and incinerate Motoki on the spot. What was he thinking, wishing Usagi a bon voyage without even asking her to stay?! How could he just let her go like that? It wasn’t…right! What kind of a friend was he, anyway?

And, Mamoru wondered uneasily, why the heck was he getting so worked up over what should be the greatest news of his life? Odango Atama was leaving! No more whining and wailing and ear-piercing shrieks of anger! No more flying test papers and donuts and shoes! Heaven’s paradise was being offered to him on a silver platter…and he was mad about it?

Maybe he was sick…

Inwardly seething—although for the life of him he couldn’t figure out why—Mamoru switched his glare from the unsuspecting manager to the Tuxedo Kamen doll he’d spent the last ten minutes (and an obscene amount of money) attempting to acquire. The little doll stared blankly up at the roof of its prison, where the claw hung threateningly over the pile of stuffed toys awaiting its chance to snatch the next unsuspecting victim. Mamoru could have sworn on his parents’ graves that the Chibi-Tuxedo Kamen was smirking at him.

Oh yeah? he thought sourly. Well, he’d just show it who was boss!

Shoving thoughts of Usagi’s departure forcefully from his mind, he dropped another coin into the machine and moved the claw until it hung directly over the doll’s head. He smirked. It was perfect. He couldn’t get a better shot if he reached in there and grabbed the doll with his own hand! Almost savagely, he pressed the button to release the claw, and its shovel-like sides opened and dropped like a stone directly over the Chibi-Tuxedo. Take THAT! the man thought triumphantly.

With a whine that bespoke of gears in dire need of oiling, the claw once more ascended, gripping its prize like a starving wolf on a fat turkey. Maneuvering over to the deposit box, it ever-so-slowly opened…and a little figure with yellow-yarn hair and a pink dress fell with a soft plop to the bottom of it.

"AARRRRGGGHHHH!" Mamoru yelled as the claw once more came to rest in its designated corner, earning several strange glances from various customers and a frightened shriek from a passing child. "This thing is fixed!" he bellowed.

Was it his imagination…or had Chibi-Tuxedo just…snickered at him?

And for that matter…hadn’t it just been on the other side of the box?!

Mamoru groaned and thumped his head—repeatedly—against the glass walls of the game until little stars began to dance across his vision. Then, deciding that enough was enough, he straightened up and smoothed back his hair, sulkily conceding victory to the doll. "Next time," he growled, stalking away to the counter for a much-needed caffeine hit.

Once he was holding a cup of steaming black death—as he’d heard Usagi refer to it more than once—he turned his attention back to the Odango-headed teenager. Motoki had disappeared, but she still sat at the game, her tongue sticking out of the corner of her mouth as she concentrated on whipping youma butt. Abruptly, she gave a loud shriek as Sailor V went into death throes, and the electronic notes of the funeral march drifted through the air. Mamoru smiled as he watched her determinedly start over, but then his smile faded as he again recalled her earlier conversation with Motoki.

What was he going to do when his Odango Atama moved to America? How would he get through his days without her around to tease and harass and make his day a little brighter? Up until that point, he’d always told himself that he didn’t care one whit about the little ditz, that he teased her because she annoyed him to death with her never-ending optimistic blatantly-cheerful self. Nobody had the right to be that happy, after all, and he figured it was his mission in life to make sure she didn’t abuse the privilege.

It had never before occurred to him that she might one day leave him; that he’d wake up one morning and she wouldn’t be there to run into him and argue with him and stimulate him in that way only she could, giving him the energy he needed to make it through his normal, boring day… The thought of her vanishing from his life as suddenly as she had blown into it was enough to make his heart spasm with pain, and he clutched at his chest and closed his eyes to will the feeling away.

Of course it didn’t go, but somehow he already knew it wouldn’t, and that as long as she was far away from him it would never leave him. He would be forced to spend the rest of his life with this sudden heart-sickness that he had never felt before, and never wanted to feel again. He raised haunted, burning eyes to the little figure seated at the booth, and whispered darkly, "She can’t leave me. I won’t let her go…"

But…how could he stop it? Apparently her father had been transferred to America and of course Usagi couldn’t stay behind while her family left without her. She didn’t even have a job. How would she support herself? Besides, living by oneself was a lonely experience, as he knew all-too-well. It was something he wouldn’t wish on his worst enemy, and Usagi, as he was fast coming to realize, was quite a bit more than that. She would wither without her family around her, and that would be almost as painful as losing her entirely.

Usagi was now rising to her feet, leaving room for one of the many other would-be players lined up impatiently behind her to take her place. As she glanced at her watch, her eyes went wide with alarm, and Mamoru caught a muttered expletive issuing from her mouth that made his eyebrows shoot up into his hairline and his own eyes widen in shock. Where had such an innocent girl learned a word like that?! Usagi, at that moment, looked up, and their eyes inadvertently met. Seeing the scandalized expression on his face, she immediately guessed that he had overheard her curse, and her cheeks bloomed with a becoming red hue. She shot him a sheepish grin and shrugged as she swung her bag over her shoulder. But then, upon noticing the intense, fixed gaze he held steady upon her, she paused in her actions to study him closer. Perhaps she was imagining things…but she could swear that he looked…betrayed somehow.

All because of one little curse word? she wondered in bewilderment. No…no it was deeper than that, somehow, although she didn’t know what else might have caused it. At any rate, it no longer mattered. The look had vanished, and had been replaced with that same cool, slightly-mocking expression he usually wore in regards to her. He raised an eyebrow at her mockingly, and she rolled her eyes at him. She was running late—as usual—and had no time to deal with the baka right then. Rei was bound to pitch a fit as it was, and she didn’t need his insults to contend with on top of it! So, not even bothering to bid sayonara, the girl turned and headed out of the arcade into the sunlight outside.

She never saw the look of regret that passed across Chiba Mamoru’s countenance, and she never looked back.

Mamoru’s dreams were restless that night, although no sooner had they mercilessly driven him from slumber then they slipped back into the recesses of his mind, probably vanishing to the same void where most of his childhood memories lay, lost and forgotten. Wiping sweat from his brow, he rose on shaky legs to pad silently to the glass doors of his balcony. The moon smiled down on him, hanging full and round in the black sky, and he gazed wistfully up at it, taking a strange comfort in its presence. The moon, at least, would never leave him.

His brow furrowed at the melancholy turn his thoughts had taken, and the remembrance of why his dreams were so troubled that night. After Usagi left, he’d managed to pry information out of Motoki—without looking too suspicious—and had discovered that his Odango was leaving for America at the end of the week, on Saturday morning, which was in fact only a mere day away. Even less time, now, his conscience reminded him cruelly. And he had also discovered that she was, indeed, excited to be going, just as he’d suspected.

Probably because she’ll finally be getting away from me, he thought darkly, fisting his hand against the glass and resting his forehead upon it. The air was chill where it managed to creep in through the clear barrier, and he wore only a green tank top and boxers, but he never noticed the cold. He was too busy kicking himself in the rear.

Why hadn’t he taken the chance to befriend her? He’d had so many opportunities…a kind word instead of an insult; a bit of encouragement when she failed a test, rather than criticizing and mocking her for her failure. Was it really so hard to treat her as any human being deserved to be treated? It’s different with her, Mamoru thought rebelliously. Odango is…special.

Which is an even better reason why you should have been nicer! his conscience mocked him. So much hurt he could have spared her, and if he had done so he might have been her friend rather than her…rather than her…what was he to her, anyway? Rival? Enemy? Somehow, neither of those terms seemed to fit their unusual relationship. Or maybe it was merely wishful thinking on his part…

But she was leaving tomorrow—Today, he corrected upon glancing at his clock—and she was going to go thinking that Chiba Mamoru hated her, or at least disliked her. And that, he realized, he could not stand for. "I don’t hate her. I don’t dislike her. I care for her. A lot," he whispered, sighing to himself. More than he’d ever cared about anyone in his life, in fact. Even more than Motoki. A bitter smile crossed his lips. Leave it to Mr. Punctuality to figure it all out now, when it was too late…

Saints, but he hated irony…

Sighing again, he raised his eyes once more to the glowing moon, as though seeking answers to the unspoken questions of his heart. But the moon, he realized, had disappeared, hidden well beneath a thick bank of black clouds so that not even a glimmer of its silvery light could shine through. Feeling the shiver of foreboding pass across his body, Mamoru wrapped his arms around himself and stumbled back to his bed, where he fell once more into his restless dreams.

Usagi squirmed excitedly as she waited with her parents and brother at the terminal of the Tokyo International Airport. She was going to America! To an entirely different country! She had been wanting to see America for so long, and now she was finally getting her chance, all thanks to her otou-san’s job! True, she was going to miss her home, and all her friends, but heck, it wasn’t like she was going to the moon or anything! They could write and of course there was email, and besides, it wasn’t like she was gonna be gone forever or anything! It was just…

"Ne, Usagi-chan, why is that guy staring at you?" Shingo’s curious voice inquired, rudely jerking his sister’s thoughts back to the present.

"Nani?" Blinking, she stared down at him for a moment, then brought her gaze up to the area where he was pointing…and her jaw abruptly hit the floor. Because Chiba Mamoru was standing there, panting slightly as though he’d been running, gazing right back at her. "M-Mamoru-san?" she squeaked, her eyes growing impossibly wide.

"Naaaniiii?"

This low growl came from her father, who was glaring at the young man with all the ferocity of an enraged lion. If looks could kill, Mamoru would have been a smoking pile of ash right about then…

"Now Ken-chan, calm yourself," Ikuko admonished her husband. "Remember your blood pressure! Usa-chan, why don’t you invite him over to introduce us, ne?" And she waved Mamoru over to them.

"Okaa-saaaan!" Usagi spluttered, feeling her cheeks heat in embarrassment. "That’s Chiba Mamoru!" At her mother’s blank look, she prompted, "The baka I’m always complaining about? Remember?!"

Ikuko’s expression cleared. "Ahhhh! Yes, of course! You never told me he was so handsome!" she giggled.

"Aaaarrrrrrggggghhh!" Usagi gripped a ponytail in each hand and yanked.

"If you keep doing that, I’m going to have to start calling you ‘Baldy’, instead," a low, deep voice gently admonished her.

She squeaked and looked up through wide eyes at Mamoru’s towering form. "What are you doing here?!" she demanded. She looked confused. "How did you know I was even here?"

"Motoki told me," Mamoru replied calmly…much more calmly than he felt. What was he doing there, anyway? Following a crazy, insane impulse? Fighting his very nature to not let the girl of his dreams leave him without knowing at least a little of what he truly felt for her, that he wanted more than anything to spend the rest of his life beside her, even if she hated him in return. Which, of course, he would never blame her if she did… Everything within him told him to turn around and walk away and never look back, before he got hurt for good, that even she was not worth the risk he was about to take.

Luckily for him, he was braver than that.

"Odang…er…Usagi-chan, I need to speak with you," he told her in a low, intense voice, hardly able to meet her gaze. He cast a quick glance in her parents’ direction instead, noting that Ikuko was physically restraining Kenji with a light grip on his arm. Kenji looked less than happy with the circumstances, but he obeyed his wife’s wishes and stayed put. Shingo, however, was leaning so far out of his seat in eagerness to listen in that he actually fell out of it. "Privately," Mamoru added with slight amusement, gripping Usagi’s hand and pulling her away from her family. She was too dazed to protest this action.

"Don’t be too long! The plane comes soon!" Ikuko called after them, waving them along.

Mamoru, taking this as a sign of her blessing—and silently sending her his heartfelt thanks—gently tugged Usagi to the other side of the large waiting area, where it was relatively empty. Lowering her into a plastic seat, out of the sight of her parents, he took the one directly across from her, and began to attempt to put into words everything his heart had kept hidden from them both for so long. "Usagi," he began, his voice low and intense…and then abruptly froze. He cleared his throat and licked his dry lips, and started again. Usagi, he noted, was being uncharacteristically silent. He wasn’t sure that this was a good thing.

"Usagi…I…there’s something I need to say to you…before you leave…" he stammered, raking long fingers through already-mussed black hair. "I know we haven’t gotten off on the right foot…but I was wondering…I mean…" He sighed and lowered his head. "This is harder than I thought it would be," he muttered. And he had known that this was going to be very hard…

A soft, cool little hand rested gently against his own folded hands, and Usagi’s soft, sweet voice drifted to his ears. "Just say what you can, Mamoru-san," she told him kindly, and smiled.

Mamoru could have kissed her. He blinked at the thought. Oh, sweet temptation…but first things first. Time was running out. Without thinking, he reached across and gripped her hands in his own, massaging them between his fingers gently. "Usagi-chan, first I want to apologize for every hurtful thing I’ve ever said to you," he told her earnestly, daring to meet her gaze. "I was cruel and heartless, and I would rather rip out my own tongue than ever cause you that kind of pain again."

"Mamoru…" she breathed softly, her expression bewildered. "Of course I can forgive you, demo…"

"Let me finish," he pleaded softly. "When I found out you were leaving yesterday, it made me start to think about…about us, and what you’ve come to mean to me. It made me realize a few things about myself that I never realized before. About why I treated you the way I did. It was because…because I was scared."

She blinked. "Scared? Of me?" She seemed amused by that idea, but he was perfectly serious.

"Iie." He shook his head. "Not scared of you so much as…as what you make me feel," he whispered, gazing into her eyes. "Such strong, intense emotions…that I fought so hard to disguise with other emotions that are completely untrue. I didn’t know what else to do with my real feelings, so I buried them and ignored them and basically fooled my own heart into believing they weren’t there. And I might have continued to do so if I hadn’t found out that you were leaving forever."

Usagi’s eyes widened as sudden understanding shone within their depths. Shaking her head slowly, she sought to speak, but a long finger against her lips effectively silenced her. Overhead, a droning voice announced the arrival and immediate boarding of flight 122, and Mamoru winced. It was Usagi’s plane, the one that would take her away from him forever.

Suddenly desperate, aware that time was fast running out, he rose to his feet and drew her up with him. Cupping her face tenderly in his big hands, he leaned close to her so that their faces were only inches apart, and gazed lovingly into her eyes. "I can’t let you leave me thinking that I dislike you in any way," he whispered as his thumbs stroked lovingly over her cheeks and lips. "I don’t hate you at all. Just the opposite, in fact." Leaning closer until their lips were nearly touching, he breathed, "Aishiteru, Usako. So much." And before she could reply, could express the horror and revulsion he was certain she had to be feeling over her worst enemy confessing his undying love to her, he closed the scant distance between them and gently, insistently, covered her lips with his own.

It was pure magic. He held the kiss for as long as he dared, relishing the sweetness and warmth of it, caressing her lips softly as he tried to convey the depths of his love to her. He kept it tender and gentle, realizing anything more passionate would frighten her, although he longed to ravish her mouth with all the aching intensity of his heart. It wasn’t long before she responded, her mouth softening beneath his and her body melting against him, and he dared to wrap his arms around her, to deepen the kiss ever-so-slightly, nudging softly at her lips, before finally, reluctantly releasing her. He studied her face through heavy-lidded eyes, noting the bright color burning in her cheeks and the swollen state of her lips, now more tempting than ever. Her eyes slowly opened, starry and dazed, and she attempted to speak, but he didn’t give her the chance.

"You have to go, Usako," he whispered, brushing a wisp of hair from her cheek. "Your parents will be wondering where you are." He made sure she was able to steady herself before he released her and stepped back, and she gazed up at him, still dazed and somewhat stricken by this sudden turn of events. He allowed a reassuring smile to cross his face, but sadness lingered in his smoky eyes. He reached out to brush a finger tenderly over her lips, causing her to draw in a shaky breath. "I wish you the best of luck in your new home," he whispered. "I hope you won’t forget me, Usako. But even if you do, please know that I will never, ever, be able to forget you. You are in my heart."

And with those words, he bowed to her formally, turned on his heel, and strode away through the crowded airport.

He didn’t hear Usagi tearfully calling after him, and he never looked back.

Living was torture.

Time seemed to pass in slow motion, and every day Mamoru had to force himself to get out of bed, get dressed, walk to school and to work afterwards…the same thing over and over and over. He avoided the arcade, and Motoki, as much as he could. He knew his friend was worried about him and would no doubt ask a lot of questions that Mamoru was, quite frankly, not ready to answer. His newfound love for Usagi was something he himself barely understood—was barely able to accept—and it seemed a rare and precious secret to him, not something to share with just anyone, even his best friend. Besides, the last thing he needed was Motoki’s misguided pity. He would find some way to deal with this broken heart of his on his own, as he’d done with every other pain he’d been dealt in his life.

Usagi’s friends, he noticed bitterly, did not seem to be at all upset over the fact that the best thing that had ever happened to them was no longer in their lives. He often saw them in the arcade and walking along the streets in the afternoon, talking and laughing as though the golden-haired angel had never existed, and he almost hated them for their thoughtlessness. And people called him heartless?! Was he the only one that mourned her loss? Was he the only one who realized how precious Usagi truly was?

He wrote letter after letter to her in a small, black leather journal, telling her all about himself, about his lonely childhood as an orphan and the accident that stole from him his very identity. And how, until she had danced into his life, he had never known what true love was, or that such a powerful, bittersweet emotion could ever exist, especially for a lonely college student like himself. He told her how he regretted not finding some way to keep her in Tokyo with him, where she belonged, and that he missed her more than he’d miss his very life were it ever stolen from him. He filled up that small journal over the course of three weeks, pouring out his heart and soul in a way he’d never done before, wanting Usagi to know everything about him, even if she should never lay eyes on his carefully scripted words.

Sometimes he felt almost angry at the girl for giving him such painful, powerful feelings, but as quickly as the anger came, he’d remember the soft touch of her lips, her gentle smile, the look of wonder in her eyes when he’d spoken with her that last time, and he found that he could not regret loving her at all.

He often contemplated asking one of her friends for her new address in America, but always he held back, realizing they’d no doubt wonder why he wanted it. Besides, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know how Usagi was doing, if she’d met another boy in America yet (no doubt they were lining up around the block, he thought jealously). To find out that she had fallen for another man would simply…break him. No, best he go on with his life and pretend that everything was the same as it had always been, even though he knew nothing would ever be the same again.

At the end of the third week, Mamoru walked slowly home from his classes, nose buried in a biology book. He had discovered long ago that burying himself in school work was the best distraction when his life threatened to overwhelm him, and he was using that distraction to his full advantage now.

He had just come to a rather interesting section explaining the molecular structure of the human brain when he heard a high, sweet voice calling his name. Blinking, he paused in his steps and looked around, wondering if he wasn’t going insane. That voice had sounded an awful lot like…

"Mamoru-san!"

He jumped and turned quickly, to find himself confronted with a head of golden hair, large blue eyes, and an adorable pout on lips that were far too familiar to him. In somewhat of a state of shock, Mamoru could only stare in bewilderment as Usagi stood before him, arms folded over her chest and foot tapping a swift rhythm on the cement. His brain seemed to have shut down on him, because he couldn’t seem to get his jaw up off the sidewalk and back to his mouth where it belonged.

After a few moments of silence, a golden eyebrow shot up, and a slight smile twitched at Usagi’s lips. "Well?" she asked. "Here I am, after almost a month, and all you’re gonna do is just stand there and stare at me?" She waited, and when he still said nothing, she broke into a full-blown grin. "Do my ears deceive me? The oh-so-eloquent Chiba Mamoru is actually speechless for a change? Miracles really do occur," she added, deadpan.

He blinked, finally, and opened dried lips to manage a croaked, "Usagi?"

She opened her mouth to give another catty retort, trying to goad him—this new, eerily silent Mamoru was starting to creep her out a little—but she never got the chance. One moment she was standing before him, watching as his knuckles slowly turned white from his deathgrip on the textbook, and in the next, that self-same book was landing face-down in the gutter, forgotten. Then those hands were reaching out toward her, and she suddenly found herself being swept into his embrace as strong arms came tight around her, holding her close to him. Right there, in the middle of the sidewalk, in broad daylight!

"Usagi!" he breathed in her ear, causing little shivers to run up and down her spine. "What are…Where did you…What are you doing here? Why aren’t you in America?"

Usagi couldn’t answer right away. She was still getting used to the fact that Chiba Mamoru was holding onto her like a drowning man to a life preserver, and she had to admit that she was enjoying it very much…even though people were beginning to stare. Finally she opened her mouth and murmured dazedly, "Because vacation’s over, and I do have school, you know."

Vacation?

Mamoru froze.

She had been on vacation?!

"Of course I have! Where did you think I was?" It wasn’t until Usagi’s voice cut through his shock that he realized he’d spoken out loud. He pulled back slightly to look at her face, staring up at him looking adorably confused. He released her, and she felt momentarily disappointed, until he gripped her hand within his own and pulled her off the sidewalk, into a nearby ally. There, he let her go and leaned against one wall, while she leaned against the other and stared at him. This guy was more complex than a thousand piece jigsaw puzzle. She never knew what he was gonna do next…and to be honest…she’d been hoping for a bit more than just a hug, although that was pretty nice in and of itself.

"Explain to me," he began in a low, intense voice, "how it is that you went from moving to America for good…to visiting there for a three week vacation."

Her jaw dropped and her eyes widened. He sounded…really mad! "Wh-what are you talking about?" she sputtered. "I never said…where did you get the idea I was moving?! And why are you so mad at me? I should be mad at you!"

Now his eyes widened. "You mad at me? And what makes you think you have that right?!" he bellowed.

"Because you went and ruined my entire vacation!" she yelled back, fists clenching at her side and eyes flashing blue sparks at him.

He froze, his own eyes suddenly going dark and lifeless. And there it was. The truth he’d been trying to avoid since she’d walked out of his life three weeks ago. He’d "ruined" her vacation by confessing his love to her…and now that she was back, rather than holding her and kissing her as he’d dreamed of doing, he was scolding her for…for what? She was right. He had no right to be angry at her at all, and she had every right to be furious at him for saying such things to her.

"Mamoru, I…" she began, but he cut her off with a sharp shake of his head.

"Iie. Don’t say anything. I understand," he replied, his voice gone flat and dull. His head was lowered so that his dark hair shaded his eyes, but she could almost feel the pain she heard in his voice. Shaking slightly, her hand reached out toward him, but he stepped away, and when he met her eyes he was once again the cool, collected college student she had become so familiar with. "Gomen ne," he told her, his voice icy. Then, without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving her to stare after him in the ally.

"Aaaarrrrgh!" Usagi growled as she viciously kicked a stone out of her way before stepping up to the sliding doors of the arcade and stomping inside, tossing her purse down on the counter and slumping down onto a stool.

"Usagi-chan!" Motoki greeted her delightedly, a wide grin covering his handsome face. "I didn’t realize you were back! Kon’wa! Did you have a good time?"

She merely grunted, crossing her arms on the counter and resting her chin on them wearily. She felt like crying, and at the same time she felt like wringing Mamoru’s neck. Why was the man such a…such a baka?!

"Oh." Motoki stopped and gave Usagi the once-over, his smile fading. "That doesn’t look good. What happened?" he questioned, ruffling Usagi’s hair affectionately.

She sighed. "Mamoru-san," she replied, as though that one word explained everything. Which, in fact, it did.

"Ah," the manager replied wisely, a small grin twitching at his lips. "How is our esteemed comrade? I haven’t seen him for…well…not since you left for vacation, Usagi-chan."

"Well, you haven’t missed much. He’s the same as he’s always been," the girl replied gloomily, heaving a sigh. "Just when I thought things were gonna change, too…"

"What happened between you two?" Motoki asked curiously, deciding that work could come later. He’d much rather listen to one of his two favorite customers spill out their woes to him, and to be honest, Mamoru’s sudden and unexplainable absence from the arcade was driving him nuts! He couldn’t seem to reach the guy at his home, either, and he never saw him between classes anymore like he used to. If he didn’t know better, he’d almost believe that Mamoru was avoiding him. And there had to be a good reason for that, right?

"The same thing that always happens," Usagi was saying. "We met…we fought…well, before that he gave me a big hug, but then he got all mad at me ‘cause he thought I was moving to America—Where do ya think he got a ridiculous idea like that, huh?—and then I got mad at him back and told him he ruined my vacation and then he left."

Motoki’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline. "Mamoru hugged you?!" he gasped. "He actually pulled you into his arms and hugged you?!"

"Hai! Right there in the middle of the sidewalk with everyone watching, and he didn’t even care!" Usagi exclaimed, blushing as she remembered. "Demo…then he pulled me into an ally and started chewing me out! And…it was almost like…what he did at the airport never happened…" Her eyes took on a sad sheen as she gazed wistfully down at her folded hands on the countertop.

"Wait, wait, wait… What exactly did Mamoru do to you at the airport?" Motoki asked, feeling more and more confused. Just how much had he missed, anyway?!

Usagi suddenly looked very uncomfortable, and she squirmed in her seat. "Well…he…showed up suddenly right before we left," she stammered.

"And?" Motoki pressed, determined to keep her talking.

"And…" She squirmed again. "He took me somewhere kinda quiet and said he didn’t hate me and that he didn’t want me to leave thinking he didn’t like me and… Hey!" She stopped suddenly and looked up. "He thought I was leaving for good way back then, too, from the way he was talking!" She shot Motoki a suspicious look. "You didn’t tell him anything, did you? Something that made him think I was moving from Japan for good?"

"Nani? Iie! I swear, I didn’t tell anyone anything," Motoki replied, holding up his hands. "But never mind that…what did he do then?"

She blinked, and her face took on a rather interesting red hue. She buried her face in her arms and mumbled something Motoki couldn’t quite catch. His eyes widened. "Exactly what was that, Usagi-chan?" he gasped, certain he’d heard wrong.

"I said," Usagi replied, lifting her face again, "that he told me he loved me, and then he…he went and laid the biggest liplock on me I’d ever received in my life! Then, before I could say anything, he took off again and abandoned me!" Her face resembled a cherry by then, and the way Motoki’s jaw had dropped and his eyes bugged out were not helping to ease her embarrassment any.

"I knew it!" the manager suddenly whooped, jumping into the air and pumping a fist upward, making her jump in surprise. "I knew that guy was totally gone on you! Oh, he was a sly one, Mamoru was, but he couldn’t fool old Motoki! Nope, not one little bit!" he crowed.

"Um, excuse me," Usagi sputtered. "I think we were talking about me here!"

Motoki calmed down and plunked himself down on a stool directly across from her, resting his chin on his arms and gazing at her through mischievous green eyes. "So…" he drawled teasingly. "When’s the wedding?"

"Motoki!" Usagi screeched, sitting bolt-upright. "Will you be serious?!"

"Okay, okay. Gomen!" Motoki soothed, holding his hands up in surrender, although a grin still threatened to split his face in half. "But it makes sense now, Usagi."

"What does?" she asked sulkily.

"How depressed Mamoru’s been lately!"

She snorted. "Ano…Mamoru-baka is ALWAYS depressed."

That gave him pause. "Okay, you have a point," he conceded. "I mean…he’s been more depressed than usual."

"Is that even humanly possible?" she asked with false sweetness, fluttering her lashes at him.

"Usagi!" He gave her a stern glance. "Now who’s not being serious?"

She rolled her eyes. "Fine."

"Look, ever since you left, Mamoru has been in a major slump. He’s been avoiding the arcade, and avoiding me in the process. He buries himself in schoolwork even more than he normally does… I don’t think he sleeps at night. He’s pining away for you, Usagi," Motoki explained, his eyes bright.

"He didn’t seem to be pining when I saw him last," she retorted. "He still looked like the same old baka he always was, and he acted like it too! He had the gall to accuse me of…of…well, he didn’t really accuse me of anything, but it was like he was mad at me for him assuming that I wasn’t coming back! And where did he get such a crazy idea in the first place?!" she almost shouted, gripping her ponytails in both hands to yank.

"Why don’t you ask him?" Motoki suggested slyly, leaning on the counter.

She pouted. "And let him bite my head off again? No thank you," she sniffed. "I don’t think I could face him again. Besides…why should I care what he thinks? He obviously was playing with me in the airport, and he went and ruined my vacation ‘cause of it! I’m mad at him!"

"Oh, don’t be such a baby!" Motoki snorted.

"Nani?" Her jaw dropped and she stared at him. Motoki had never called her that before! It hurt her incredibly that he was doing so now, when she was being perfectly serious for once. "Whose side are you on?!" she snapped, glaring at him through a haze of tears. "Why do I tell anyone anything?! All you people ever do is insult me and call me names! Even my stupid cat doesn’t listen to me!"

"Gomen ne," Motoki replied gently, reaching out to grip her hand and keep her from leaving. "I didn’t mean it like that. Look," he told her seriously, "the only way you’re going to find out the truth is if you go to his place and talk to him about it. That’s what couples do. They talk things over. You and Mamoru have been very verbal with each other in the past; why should it be any different now?"

She sniffled and wiped her eyes. "Demo…I can’t…what if I’m right and he really was only playing with me?" she asked fearfully. "What if he doesn’t love me at all?"

Motoki looked at her sternly. "You can’t tell me you really believe that. Mamoru isn’t that mean, for one thing. And you were there in the airport. Do you honestly believe that he was only acting when he told you he loved you?"

Blue eyes dropped to stare blindly at the faint pattern in the countertop as she remembered the love and sincerity in his eyes when he’d whispered his love to her, right before he’d kissed her. And the kiss itself was something she cherished, wondering if she’d ever receive another one like it. To be perfectly honest…she could no longer imagine anyone other than her Mamoru kissing her like that. The thought was…heartbreaking. Slowly, she shook her head.

"Then talk to him," Motoki said, giving her shoulder a light squeeze. "I promise, you won’t regret it."

"Hai," she agreed softly. Then, with more force, "Hai!" She nodded her head firmly. "I’ll go talk to him right now, and we’ll get this whole mess worked out! I mean…what’s the worst that can happen? We just get into another fight like we always do…"

"No, no, no. Think positively! What’s the best that can happen?" Motoki replied with a wink and a sly grin. "And if you do get into an argument…think of the fun you’ll have making up again!" She blushed at his sly tone, hopping off the stool.

"Guess I’d better go find him," she stammered, turning to leave. "Arigatou for the great advice, Motoki-san!" she called back over her shoulder as the arcade doors slid closed.

"Not a problem," Motoki replied distractedly as he hurriedly scribbled something down on a slip of paper. Then he put the pen away and waited, leaning on the counter with one arm outstretched, letting the paper dangle from his fingers.

In another five seconds a rather breathless Usagi came hurrying back into the building, her cheeks flushed. "Ano…Motoki-san…where does…?" she began, until her eyes fell upon a scrap of paper with what looked like an address scribbled on it. "Er…arigatou," she finished with a giggle, snatching the paper and running out again.

Motoki grinned and shook his head, brushing his hands together with a self-satisfied air. "Oh, what would these people do without me?" he chuckled.

Mamoru had just sprawled out on the sofa to read his next assignment for his Literature class when somebody knocked on his door. He froze, waiting, hoping that whoever was there would go away and leave him to work in peace. But it was not to be, as the knocking came again, and then the doorbell. He moaned softly and thumped his head against the arm of the couch. "Go away," he groaned.

There was a pause, and then a soft, "Mamoru-san?"

His head shot up so fast that his neck nearly snapped in half. That couldn’t have been…

There was a soft click, and he realized belatedly that he’d left the door unlocked as it opened quietly, enough to allow a golden head of hair to peek through, wide, blue eyes darting nervously around. "Mamor…" Usagi’s whisper abruptly halted as her gaze fell on him, sprawled on the couch like a big, lazy cat…and looking downright sexy to boot in a pair of gray shorts that looked a bit like cut-off sweatpants, bare feet, and a black muscle shirt. Two blue gazes crashed, one confused and the other mortified.

"Oh…I…um…I see you’re busy," Usagi squeaked, feeling the heat burning in her cheeks. "I’ll come back later…" She swallowed hard and let go of the door, preparing to make a hasty exit to the elevator.

"Matte!" Mamoru gasped, leaping up from his prone position. Unfortunately, the soft gray afghan that normally covered the back of the couch had somehow managed—in the space of two seconds—to slide down enough to tangle itself around his leg, so that rather than gracefully rising to his feet to saunter to the door, Mamoru found himself rather ungracefully falling off the sofa to land painfully on the floor, spread-eagle. The afghan still lay on the sofa, looking perfectly innocent even though one end still clung stubbornly to Mamoru’s ankle in a death-hold, and he couldn’t help but wonder if a certain Chibi Tuxedo Kamen doll hadn’t had words with the fuzzy gray beast.

There was utter silence, and then, in a rather strangled voice, Usagi managed to croak, "Are you all right?" She sounded suspiciously like she was attempting to hold in uproarious laughter, and for that much he could thank her. But her face was turning purple, which couldn’t have been very healthy for her. He decided to swallow his pride—just this once—and replied, in a perfectly serious voice, "Don’t worry. I’m fine. Luckily for me, the floor broke my fall."

She couldn’t take it anymore, and she leaned back against the doorway as she allowed peal after peal of laughter to escape her lips, her arms clutching her stomach and her bag laying forgotten at her feet. Finally, aware that his delicate ego had to have shrunk to the size of a marble by then, she managed to calm herself enough to straighten and wipe tears from her eyes. She cleared her throat nervously and, still clutching her stomach—which had begun to cramp slightly from laughing so hard—she forced herself to look at him.

He was still standing there, arms crossed over his chest, watching her with a strange smile playing about his lips. His eyes were lidded, but she could still see the smoky blue orbs gazing at her beneath thick lashes. Suddenly nervous, she bit her lip and snatched up her rather large bag, rummaging in it until she came up with a rather bedraggled book. "You…um…dropped this earlier," she stammered, holding out the book, which he now recognized as his missing Biology book, toward him. "I cleaned it up a little, but it’s still kinda damp…"

"That’s okay," he told her, reaching out a hand. But he didn’t move from his spot, and she was forced to slip off her shoes and come forward a few steps to hand it to him, which was what he wanted. The further away she was from her escape route, the better. He didn’t want her to leave, now that she was actually there, until they had a chance to talk. "Would you like some tea or hot chocolate?" he offered.

"Hot chocolate sounds good," she replied shyly.

He smiled, then, and turned to saunter into his kitchen, while she nervously took a seat on that same sofa, fisting her hands on her knees and looking around. It was a nice, spacious, one-roomed apartment, like a studio, with everything a single guy could want or need. A computer desk with a fancy-looking laptop, a well-stocked entertainment center, a few potted plants here and there, bookshelves crammed full with books. There was a bed in the far corner of the room, neatly made, with a dark mahogany dresser beside it, and she quickly averted her gaze from the "bedroom" section of the apartment.

Now what do I do? she wondered, biting her lip nervously as she stared at the coffee table before her. She was there…but she had no idea how to start a conversation with him. Not without tossing some insult at him, which she was sure he wouldn’t appreciate. But she had never before tried to hold a decent conversation with him, and it was weird that she was contemplating doing so now. Maybe I don’t need to talk at all. What if I just went up to him and kissed him? I bet that would get my message across, she thought. But of course she would never have the guts to do that…

A tray appeared in her line of vision, bearing two steaming cups of chocolate and a small plate of chocolate chip cookies, and she blinked and looked up to meet two dark eyes watching her seriously. She swallowed and felt her knees begin to turn to butter, grateful that she was already sitting down. How had she ever managed to face that seductive gaze before without melting into a little puddle of goo?

What am I doing here? I must be insane! she thought, panicking. It had to have been a dream. No way would a guy like Mamoru ever fall for a little crybaby like me! He’s probably got every gorgeous girl in the city swooning at his feet! Why would he want me?

"You don’t have to be so nervous," Mamoru’s deep voice cut into her musings gently. "I’m not going to bite you."

"I…I know that!" she replied hastily. "I’m not nervous!"

He gave a noncommittal shrug and settled himself on the couch beside her. Very beside her. As in…his warm, bare leg brushed against her own somewhat bare leg where her skirt had ridden up slightly, just as their arms brushed, sending little sparks of electricity shooting through her skin, and she nearly lost the grip she had on her mug. She gulped and tried to keep her face from turning red.

"So," he said pleasantly. "I’m assuming you have a reason for coming here, right? How about telling me what it is? I have to admit that I’m curious."

She nearly choked on her cocoa. Boy, this guy doesn’t beat around the bush, does he?

"Um…yeah. About that…" she muttered, carefully setting her mug down again. "See…well…I think there’s been some kind of mistake, and I want to kind of…make it better again."

"Mistake?" His voice had gone deadly soft, and she flinched.

"Um…about how you managed to jump to the conclusion that I was moving away?" she replied weakly, scratching at her throat nervously. His eyes followed her hand’s movement, and darkened slightly as they fixed upon the soft skin, wondering faintly if it would feel as soft as it looked against his lips.

"I heard you talking to Motoki," he replied, meeting her gaze again. An expression of confusion washed over her features. "In the arcade," he prompted. "I believe your exact words were—from what I actually heard of them, anyway—‘Leaving…America…Otou-san’s job…long time.’ Does any of that ring a bell?"

Her brow furrowed for a moment as she thought, and then her lips parted in a silent O. She shot him a wry glance. "Yes, I remember," she replied, smiling at him sweetly. "Maybe you’d like to hear the rest of the words now?"

He blinked at her.

"Ahem. ‘Guess what, Motoki-san! My family is leaving for America on Saturday! Otou-san’s job is paying for it, because it’s a big work conference in New York, and we’ll be gone a long time, a whole three weeks of no school!’ Or something along those lines. Now…does that make sense to you?" she asked sarcastically.

He stared at her with wide eyes, his jaw hanging open ever-so-slightly. "Th-that’s it?" he stammered.

"Hai. That’s it. Maybe now, Mamoru-baka, you’ll learn not to eavesdrop on other people’s conversations," she replied primly, crossing her arms disapprovingly over her chest.

"Maybe so…" he breathed, staring at nothing. He blinked and shook his head slowly, turning to look at her, and asked the only thing he could think to ask at the moment. "So…did you have a good time?"

It was the wrong thing to say.

She jumped to her feet, hands fisting on her hips as she glared down at him with abruptly furious eyes. "Iie!" she snapped. "I did not have a good time! And why is that, you ask? Because right before I headed off on the adventure of my life, somebody went and dropped the biggest bomb of my life on me, and then turned tail and ran away instead of staying to discuss it like any decent human being would do! He left me alone for three weeks feeling confused and excited and scared and…and…all these emotions I would have rather not dealt with at the moment! And can you imagine how hard it was for me to act normal around my parents?! I mean, good grief! A guy they’d never met goes and drags their only daughter off to who-knows-where and when she comes back she can barely talk straight, and of course they’re gonna be asking a lot of nosy questions that I wasn’t ready to answer!"

She wound down from her tirade, cheeks flushed and chest heaving, and he could only stare up at her, blinking. He opened his mouth to reply, to tell her how sorry he was…but she wasn’t finished yet. "And to top everything else off, it rained!" she ended with a pout, crossing her arms again. "All three weeks, it rained, and it was cold and wet and miserable! I couldn’t go for a carriage ride through Central Park, or to the zoo, or through all the famous gardens, and I couldn’t go sight seeing through the city because Otou-san was busy at that conference all the time and Okaa-san caught a cold and didn’t feel much like going out, and of course I wasn’t allowed to explore New York by myself. I had to spend most of the time in the hotel and in the shopping malls—not that the shopping part was bad—but it did get boring after awhile. And I had to share a hotel room with my brother! How annoying is that? Have you ever heard a ten-year-old snore? And he talks in his sleep, too, and I swear I don’t want to know what that kid dreams about…" She shuddered.

"Are you finished yet?" Mamoru asked, smiling slightly, having had time to compose himself during her ranting. She sighed and shrugged. "I’m sorry you had such a miserable time," he continued, trying to meet her eyes. "If I’d known my confession was going to cause you so much trouble, maybe I wouldn’t have followed you to the airport, after all." She looked somewhat disturbed at that, and he held back another smile. "Demo…now that you’ve had time to think about it…" he prompted softly.

"I got you a gift," she blurted suddenly, going to her bag again and riffling around in it. He blinked, trying to hold back his disappointment as she came up for air again, clutching a tan-colored bundle in her hand. She sat back down on the couch and handed it to him. "Here," she stated nervously. "I saw it in a shop in the hotel, and I thought it was cute so…" She didn’t meet his gaze when he took it from her, allowing his fingers to linger on her hand in a gentle caress.

It was a tan-colored T-shirt, with long, green sleeves and a green collar, a silhouette of a city across the chest and a phrase printed below it in English. He translated, "My girlfriend went to New York and all I got was this crummy shirt…" He blinked and looked up at her. "Girlfriend…" he repeated in a whisper.

She was squirming uncomfortably. "I-it’s really stupid, I know," she muttered. "I just…it seemed like the right gift at the time…and it made me laugh when I saw it…"

Suddenly she found herself being surrounded in warm arms, and Mamoru’s voice murmuring in her ear, "I love it. It’s perfect. Thank you, Usa." Before she could blink, he had leaned back and was pulling the muscle shirt over his head. Her eyes widened at the sight of a bare-chested Mamoru in front of her, and she was hard pressed to keep from reaching out and touching him. She managed to get a hold of herself as he pulled the shirt down over his head, looking down at himself with a grin. "It’s a little tight," he told her, slanting her a sly, quizzical look.

She blushed, looking away from the tan shirt that didn’t do much to hide his well-contoured body. "I had to take a guess at the size," she replied with a careless shrug. No need to let him know that she had deliberately guessed a size too small. "Besides," she added, "tight shirts are in style, you know."

"Are they, now?" At his low rumble, she shot him a look, and realized belatedly that he had not missed any part of her reaction to him when he’d changed. She gulped, suddenly feeling like a mouse being cornered by a panther, and attempted to ease away as she realized how close they were sitting again.

"Is something wrong?" Mamoru asked, cocking his head to one side and giving her a boyish grin. "You look a little nervous again."

"Oh…nothing’s wrong," she replied a little too quickly, eyes darting to the side so she wouldn’t fall into those dark sapphire pools again. She wasn’t completely naïve. She knew very well what he wanted next; could read the intent in his eyes. She felt that dark gaze come to rest on her lips, and a long finger rose to trace a path across them, before cupping her cheek in the palm of his hand.

"Usa," he murmured gently, leaning close to her and capturing her gaze with his own. "Do you love me, Usa?" She blinked at the unexpected question, at the seriousness of his gaze as it rested on her, trying to determine her answer. "You had time to think about it," he continued softly, stroking her cheek with his thumb. "I’d like to know what the answer is, if you don’t mind."

She swallowed, hard. "What if I say no?" she whispered back, her eyes wide.

She thought he flinched slightly. "Then I guess I’ll just have to learn to live with a broken heart," he replied, the sadness in his voice unmistakable.

"What if…I say yes?" she breathed.

His expression became even more serious. "Don’t say yes," he whispered, "unless you really mean it."

A moment. A heartbeat. An eternity later, and her lips moved to form a single word. "Yes…"

His breath left him in a rush, and from one instant to the next his eyes had brightened from the deepest sapphire to the lightest hue of a summer sky. "Usako," he sighed, pulling her into his arms in a tight hug, and she grinned and closed her eyes as she held him back, her own arms coming up around his neck, as she’d longed to do for the past three weeks.

They stayed like that for a long time, neither speaking, just holding each other like they would never let go. Usagi was in heaven, feeling happier than she could ever remember feeling in her life. Wait until the girls find out about this! They’ll die of jealousy, she thought smugly. Then her eyes fell upon the plate of cookies sitting on the coffee table, and involuntarily her stomach growled. Mamoru pulled away from her, looking at her with a slightly bemused expression. "Um…I didn’t eat lunch," she explained sheepishly, tugging at one of her ponytails. Then, slyly, "You know, those cookies sure look good…"

Mamoru raised an eyebrow at her, shaking his head in amusement, and she gave a small shrug and a grin in reply, not at all repentant. If he was going to love her, he’d have to love all of her, just as she loved all of him…even his bad temper.

Mamoru let loose a small laugh at her innocent expression, then reached out and snagged a cookie from the plate, holding it between them. He gave her a slow, sly smile and broke a little corner of it off, holding it out to her. She blinked at him in confusion, wondering if he wanted her to eat it. But instead of feeding it to her, as she’d expected, he placed it between his own lips, before reaching out to take her face gently between his hands and pull her toward him, dipping his head to cover her lips with his own in a soft kiss.

Her eyes went wide as she felt him gently push the cookie into her mouth, his tongue tracing a soft, warm line over her lips, before he withdrew again, leaving her trembling and breathless. She made no resistance when his arms came about her again and pulled her against his chest, one hand softly stroking her hair as she listened to his heart pounding erratically against her ear. He closed his eyes and lowered his head to nuzzle his face to her ear. "You’re right," he murmured softly, his breath warming her skin. "They’re delicious."

She drew in a shaky breath and closed her eyes when she felt those warm lips touch her throat, kissing softly before withdrawing again. "Definitely," she agreed in a breathless whisper. He smiled and broke another piece of the cookie off, this time placing it between her lips, before he bent to take it back into his own mouth. He took a long, sweet time to retrieve it from her, and she greatly enjoyed letting him do so. They continued on this way, back and forth, until the entire plate of cookies was empty, and by the time the last crumb was gone, Usagi definitely wasn’t hungry any more. At least not for food.

When she finally left his apartment, realizing just how late it had gotten, she received from him a final, lingering kiss and a small, black journal that he made her promise not to read until she was at home. She left the building, almost floating on air, and ran the entire way back to her house, barricading herself in her room and making sure everyone else—including Luna—was locked out of it. Then she set to reading the journal he’d given her, eyes eagerly taking in the passionate words he poured out to her, all the feelings he’d kept bottled up inside for so long.

Her tears dotted many of the pages when she read about his lonely childhood, and her cheeks became flushed when she read the words of love he’d written. She mourned the pain and regret he’d felt when he thought she was never coming back to him, realizing just how deeply and passionately he had come to love her. She promised herself that she’d never let him feel that kind of pain again.

By the time she came to the last page, it was well into the night, and her eyes were sore and red, but inside she was singing. A final message, written lovingly with that day’s date etched in the corner, caught her eye.

My Usako,

Usagi sat up, wiping tears from her eyes and smiling as she reached for a pen on her night stand. Carefully she wrote something below his name, signing it with her own name before laying the journal on her table and snapping out her light, slipping contentedly into sleep.

As the moon rose over the city, a few pale beams streamed in through her open window, falling softly across the journal and highlighting a single message.