Mamoru had a girlfriend.

Usagi stared at Motoki in disbelief as she struggled to absorb this sudden and most surprising revelation. She’d been grousing—as usual—to the manager about her rival’s most infuriating behavior, wondering loudly why he treated girls like they all carried the bubonic plague—especially her—and he’d popped out with that answer like he was trying to win the grand prize on a quiz show.

Mamoru. Had. A. Girlfriend.

Nope. Her brain was like a cheap paper towel; it didn’t so much absorb the information as to push it around for a little while before it ran over the edge and onto her tongue in an astonished, inarticulate, "Huh?!"

Motoki smiled at the shell-shocked expression on the young girl’s face, and nodded enthusiastically. "It’s true, Usagi-chan," he insisted. "He used to have a girlfriend back when we first became friends. They attended the same high school together. Her name was…Kioko, or something. They were really serious for awhile; he’d even considered marrying her."

Usagi’s heart felt like it was gonna drop right from her chest down into her feet. She had never known this. Why had she never known this?

"Nobody knows about it, except for me," Motoki added as though he’d read her mind. "He doesn’t talk about her much."

"Why not?" she cried. "Is she the reason he’s so…detestable toward girls?" She knew he didn’t seem to hold any particular fondness for the female population of Tokyo—even though they all seemed to hold a great deal of fondness for him—and she had always just assumed that it was his rotten personality. But now…

Motoki shrugged. "That’s the thing. I don’t know what happened," he admitted, scratching his head. "One day Mamoru-san came into the arcade, gave me a look that could wilt a flower, and told me it was over between the two of them. I didn’t ask any questions, and he never gave any answers. It’s always been a mystery, but I know better than to press my luck by asking too many nosy questions."

"You should have, if you’re his best friend!" Usagi huffed, pouting a little. "Now I’ll never find out what happened, either!"

Motoki laughed. "You can always ask him yourself," he teased.

She suddenly brightened. "Hey, I could, couldn’t I? I’m really good at prying information out of people!" she squealed as a suspicious gleam came into her eye.

"Mou! Usagi-chan, don’t! I was only kidding!" Motoki yelped, alarmed. "Don’t say anything! He’ll kill me if he found out I told you!"

She deflated slightly, and he started to breathe a sigh of relief, until she abruptly straightened and shot him a mischievous grin. "Ne, Motoki, he won’t kill you! You are his best friend, after all!" she chirped, and headed off toward the video games, giggling, "Mamoru-baka actually had a secret love affair? Ne, this is too good…"

Motoki, in the meantime, fought the urge to beat his head against the counter as he contemplated on how much a one-way plane ticket out of the country might cost him.

He had a feeling that he was going need a rather long vacation in the near future…

Usagi had her chance to question Mamoru the very next day, which happened to be a Saturday, when she stepped into the arcade and saw the young man sitting by the window, poring over a thick textbook. Her eyes narrowed and her smile was sly as she headed unerringly in his direction, noting with relief that Motoki wasn’t there. He’d no doubt try to distract her from her mission, and besides, she wanted to give him fair chance to escape if Mamoru actually did blow a gasket. She slid bravely into the booth across from the handsome young man, waiting rather impatiently until he looked up from his book.

He never did.

She frowned, rather miffed at being ignored. He never ignored her any other time! Why should this one be any different? After another minute, she heaved an exasperated sigh and rolled her eyes, before reaching out a hand to wave it beneath his nose. "Kon’wa! Earth calling Mamoru-san! Planning on coming back down to Reality any time this decade?" she called, leaning close to him to peer into his lowered face.

Startled, he glanced up to meet her gaze, his eyes dilating with surprise into large, enigmatic pools, surrounded by two beautiful rings of dark sapphire. Her heart abruptly slammed into her throat as she found herself caught up in that deep, intense gaze, only inches from her own… Had she ever noticed before how beautiful his eyes were? Like all the secrets of the universe could be hiding within their shadowed depths…

And then, of course, he had to open his big mouth.

"So, Odango Atama, to what to I owe the displeasure of this visit?" he commented drolly, bringing her thoughts crashing down with the force of colliding planets.

She blinked at him, then frowned. "Baka! Here I am, trying to have a nice conversation with you, and you’re insulting me! I was even gonna buy you a milkshake! But if you’re just gonna act like an uncivilized brute, I’ll go talk to Motoki, instead!" she huffed, preparing to stand up.

A deep chuckle, and abruptly a large, warm hand was covering her own, stilling her actions. "Sit down," he commanded humorously, smirking at her. "You can buy me a milkshake, and then you can tell me what’s so important that you risk my razor-sharp tongue to come talk to me. I have to admit my curiosity is getting the better of me for once. What are you up to, little imp?"

She blinked at him, somewhat stunned by the almost affectionate manner with which he spoke, but she put on her most virtuous face. "Nani?" she replied innocently. "Who says I’m up to anything? Can’t I call a truce for a day without having my motives questioned?"

A single, raised eyebrow clearly asked, "You’re joking, ne?"

She rolled her eyes. "Fine," she huffed, crossing her arms. "Don’t believe me then." She signaled a waitress over and added, "Two large chocolate milkshakes." Then she sat back in her seat and looked at Mamoru, daring him to make a comment. He smiled slyly and closed his textbook with finality before resting his folded hands atop it, meeting her gaze.

"Well?" he asked.

She blinked at him again. "Well what?"

"Well…what did you want to talk about? You came to me to talk, remember? So…I assume you had something specific in mind…"

She bit her lip nervously, dropping her gaze onto her folded hands. To say she was going to ask about this Kioko girl was one thing…to actually do it was quite another. If she made him mad…would he hesitate to kill her? There was no love lost between them, after all, and if Motoki was afraid Mamoru would kill him, his very best friend…

"I’m not getting any younger, Odango," Mamoru commented, his long, slender fingers tapping an idle rhythm on the tabletop.

She blushed and straightened. "I’m getting there! Don’t rush me!" she huffed.

He rolled his eyes. "Odango…if you dragged me from my studies to play stupid mind games with me…"

"Who was Kioko?" she blurted out, before she could even think about it. Immediately she wanted to bite off her own tongue, as Mamoru’s posture abruptly changed. He sat up straight in his seat, his hands tightening into fists on the table, and the color seemed to bleach out of his lightly-tanned skin. His eyes were once again those deep, fathomless pools. A muscle in his clenched jaw twitched, and she thought she detected a faint tremor pass through his body, before he sat absolutely still. He looked…furious. She realized belatedly that she had said something very wrong.

"Who…" he started, then paused when his voice came out sounding rough and hoarse, and coughed a little before trying again. "How did you find out…about Kioko?" His eyes burned into hers, demanding answers, and she felt a little shiver of fear pass up her spine.

"D-does it matter?" she squeaked, shrinking back a little. "I…um…was talking to someone and…it…um…came up."

"Motoki." He spat the name like a curse. "How dare he…"

"Iie! Don’t be mad, onegai, Mamoru-san!" Usagi pleaded. "He didn’t mean any harm, honest!"

"He had no right to tell you anything about Kioko!" Mamoru snapped, eyes flashing. "And you have no right to ask!"

Usagi blinked up at him, and then her temper flared. "I do so!" she shouted back, a bright flush staining her cheeks. He blinked back at her, startled at her outburst. She plunged ahead without thinking. "I have every right to know why you hate me so much! Y-you’re mean! And cold-hearted! And…and if I can find out why, then maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much!" She broke off and slapped her hand over her mouth, dropping her gaze in humiliation. She had not meant to blurt that out. Especially that last part. The last thing she’d wanted him to know was how much his heartless comments got to her. Because then it meant that he won, and winning was the last thing she wanted him to do.

Mamoru was regarding her, his face expressionless and his eyes cold. Her words had cut deep, although he’d die before admitting it. Mean and cold-hearted, was he? What would she know about it? She was just a clumsy middle school student! She had no idea what kind of pain had been inflicted upon him in the past. Maybe he was cold-hearted…but if it meant that he wouldn’t ever be hurt like that again…then he welcomed it. And it didn’t matter to him what she thought of him. Not one little bit.

So then…why did it feel like someone was trying to drive a railroad spike through his chest?

Still blushing profusely, Usagi snatched up her purse, fumbling with her wallet to find enough money to pay for her milkshake, as well as for his, just like she had promised she would. She wouldn’t let him chew her out about that, at least. Her hands shook, he noticed, and he realized that she was on the verge of a breakdown, but he was frozen. Even though something seemed to be telling him to reach out and take those pale hands into his own to stop their incessant shaking, the ice around his heart seemed to have spread, stilling any action he might have taken. He said not a word, but he could not look away from her stricken face.

Usagi finally managed to dig out enough change for the two drinks, feeling that intense, burning stare boring into her head the entire time. What was he thinking? If he hadn’t hated her before, he surely did now! Why hadn’t she listened to Motoki’s sensible advice and left well enough alone? Obviously this Kioko was the source of a lot of pain in his life, and she was stupid and heartless to have so recklessly brought it up again. And what she had told him! How could she have said those things? They were all true, but still! And why wasn’t he saying anything? He always had something to say! His utter silence now was more nerve-wracking than his teasing and insults had ever been, and she knew she had to get away before she made an utter fool out of herself and broke down in front of him completely.

She laid the change on the table, still not able to meet his gaze as ashamed tears welled in her eyes. Then, clutching her small bag in her arms, she turned and hurried out of the arcade, feeling his gaze resting on her the entire way. As soon as she was gone, Mamoru turned a blind gaze back to the table, where a pile of coins and two melting, chocolate milkshakes sat accusingly before him.

"What happened?"

This question came from Motoki, who slid into the booth across from him that Usagi had earlier vacated. Mamoru blinked slowly, coming out of the strange daze he’d seemed to have slipped into. How long had he been sitting there, staring at nothing like a complete space cadet? No wonder Motoki looked so worried! Mamoru glanced at the milkshakes. They were now nothing more than a disgusting brown liquid. It had been awhile. Those thick shakes took a long time to melt.

"So…what happened?" Motoki tried again determinedly when his friend refused to answer. Maybe it was foolhardy of him to risk life and limb to talk to the brooding man, but after watching him stare at those milkshakes with that blank, dazed expression for twenty minutes straight, he couldn’t put it off any longer. "Is it Usagi?" the manager asked bluntly. "She asked you about…you-know-who, didn’t she? I told her not to say anything, but you know Usagi-chan. When she gets an idea into her head…"

"Motoki-kun, quit talking," Mamoru stated wearily, rubbing his forehead with his fingers. "Why did you mention Kioko to her? What possible good could come of it?"

Motoki winced. "She was complaining to me again about how much you tease her, and she asked me why you seemed to hate all women in general, and her in particular. She sounded so…sad when she asked. I was just trying to enlighten her, you know?"

"By telling her things about my past that she has no business knowing?" Mamoru growled.

Motoki looked irritated. "Well, what was I supposed to say, Mamoru? That I had no idea why you hated her? That maybe it was just her personality? Oh, I’m sure that would have made her feel really good about herself!"

"Why does everyone think that I hate Usagi?!" Mamoru snapped, bringing his head up to glare at his friend. "I do not hate Usagi!"

"Could have fooled me," Motoki commented snidely, crossing his arms. Then, with deliberate spite, "You certainly succeeded in fooling her!" Mamoru winced, but did not reply. Motoki sighed. "You always were a stubborn baka," he grumbled. "Why do you torment that poor girl? It isn’t her fault you’re so miserable all the time!"

"Just be quiet, Motoki," Mamoru replied with bone-deep weariness. "There are things that you just don’t understand!"

"I would if you would talk to me!" Motoki snapped, slapping his palm on the table before them and making both Mamoru and himself jump in surprise. "How long have we been best friends now? Since the beginning of high school? That’s a long time to be keeping secrets from each other, ne, Mamoru-san?"

Another sigh was his only answer, and Motoki shook his head. "Right. Well, when you decide to actually trust your best friend and open up and talk to me, you’ll know where to find me," he stated in utter disgust, pushing himself to his feet and stalking away. "As for Usagi, if you intend to keep treating her like the scum of the earth, the least you can do is give her a reasonable explanation for such immature behavior. You owe her that much!"

Mamoru stared silently after his friend, pain written clearly on his features, before he abruptly stood and grabbed his books, and headed out the door. The ice was finally melting, it seemed, and guilt was rapidly taking its place as Usagi’s words began to whisper tauntingly in his mind.

…If I can find out why, then maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much!

He closed his eyes as the pain almost overwhelmed him, clutching at his heart. What had he been doing to his Odango? What kind of pain had he caused her because of his selfishness? What kind of a monster was he, anyway?

Whatever he was…he knew he had some explaining to do, and fast, if he ever expected his sweet Usagi to look him in the eyes again.

Usagi lay on her bed, her eyes red and swollen from crying as she stared blankly up at her ceiling. She felt horrible; her head was pounding, her eyes burned, and she just generally felt like a complete wretch. And it was all her own fault, too. She was still kicking herself over the things she had said to Mamoru, when it was her fault in the first place that he’d gotten upset with her. If only she could learn to let things well enough alone!

There came a knock on her door, and she sighed. It was probably her mother, coming to check up on her again. Her mother was sweet and caring, but sometimes the woman just didn’t know when to quit. "Come in," Usagi called wearily before she turned over onto her stomach and buried her head beneath a pillow…

Until she remembered—rather belatedly—that her mother had left to go to the store only a few minutes ago, leaving her little brother Shingo behind. Her head abruptly popped up from beneath the pillow, and she opened her mouth to berate the nosy little spore for daring to disturb her.

Her mouth stayed open, even as the words died in her throat, as the sight of Chiba Mamoru standing in her doorway stole the breath from her lungs.

"Kon’wa," he greeted quietly, his eyes dark and serious.

She gulped and scrambled to sit up, wiping a few strands of damp hair from her face. "Wh-what are you doing here?" she squeaked.

"Your brother let me in," he replied quietly.

She scowled. Someone was really going to have to talk to that kid about letting perfect strangers into their home! "I-if you’ve come to yell at me, you may as well just go home again, because I’m not going to listen to you anymore," she stammered, turning her back on him…more to hide her trembling hands than to snub him.

"I didn’t come to yell at you," came the quiet reply. There was a moment of silence, in which Usagi slowly turned back around to cautiously meet his serious gaze.

"Then why did you come?" she asked, so quietly that he barely heard her.

Mamoru hesitated for a moment, before stepping fully into her room and closing the door, leaving it open a crack so nobody would get suspicious. He supposed it was a good thing that neither of Usagi’s parents were actually home, or he’d never have been able to get even close to her bedroom like this.

Usagi was still watching him, looking at him expectantly through those beautiful—if not slightly puffy—blue eyes. She seemed…hopeful, and fearful, all at once, and Mamoru felt the ice around his heart melt a little more. If he had any doubts, they were swiftly vanishing beneath the softness of Usagi’s gaze, and he realized, suddenly, that he was glad that he’d come. Taking a deep breath, he replied to her earlier question, "I…I came to…explain some things."

Usagi could hardly believe her ears. Mamoru was actually going to tell her about Kioko? She watched as he moved further into the room, feeling more than a little dazed. His presence was so…powerful, it seemed. It was almost nerve-wracking to be so close to him. "Well?" she began gruffly, trying to rein in her emotions, "Start talking."

"Kioko was…the love of my life, I guess you could say," Mamoru began quietly as he seated himself cross-legged on the floor near Usagi’s bed. He heard her quiet gasp, and looked up in time to meet her gaze. His smile was bitter at the astonishment he saw in her eyes. "Yes, Usagi, I did have a girlfriend, once upon a time," he added, forcing the words to sound light and careless, no matter how bitter they were to spit out. "She was more than that, actually," he added with a shrug. "I’d planned on marrying her."

Usagi was stunned. He’d…Mamoru was going to marry another woman? So…what happened? Why hadn’t he done so? And why was she so relieved? She shouldn’t be feeling relieved! That was a horrible thing to feel about something that obviously caused Mamoru so much pain! She bit back the questions that tried to force themselves past her lips, meeting Mamoru’s gaze and silently begging him to continue.

He did so, with great reluctance.

"Kioko was…well, she was one of the most beautiful girls I’d ever seen, at the time," he said quietly, his eyes taking on a dream-like quality as he indulged in memories long-suppressed. "Her hair was long and this beautiful chocolate color, and she had large, soft doe-eyes almost the same color; eyes that a man could drown in. She was gentle and demure and beautiful. In short, she was everything I could have ever hoped for in a potential wife. I…I really thought I loved her."

Usagi was torn. Here she was, finally getting straight answers to all of her questions, and in a few short sentences, she suddenly realized that she didn’t want to hear them anymore. She didn’t want to hear about this perfect woman that Mamoru had loved, a woman who was—by the sound of it—the complete opposite of Usagi. If he loved Kioko that much, it’s no wonder that he despises me! she thought despondently. How could I ever hope to measure up to such a person?

Mamoru was watching Usagi’s reaction carefully as he talked, and when he spoke of Kioko’s beauty, he thought he saw her jaw clench, and her fists tighten ever-so-slightly in her lap. This was disturbing her, he realized. If he didn’t know better, he’d almost think that the girl was…jealous. Jealous? he thought in faint wonder. Of a memory?

Could it be that…the little waif actually cared about him?

That thought was not as unpleasant as he thought it should be. He continued with his story, eyes fixed upon Usagi’s expression carefully. "Kioko and I were nearly inseparable in high school," he told her quietly. "She came from a wealthy family, one of great influence in the public eye. She thought that I did, as well, since I could afford things like nice clothes, and had a nice apartment. She…I never told her that I had no family, that I was an orphan who had been on my own since I was six years old, with very little memory of my life before my parents were taken from me. Or that every penny I had was what I had scrimped and saved and earned with the sweat off my back through the years." His eyes sought Usagi’s almost desperately, expecting to see the same horror and disbelief that had shone in Kioko’s eyes when she’d finally discovered the truth about him.

To his surprise, there was nothing but simple compassion in those blue depths. It was as if she’d already known. Of course, he realized. Motoki probably told her about that, as well. He frowned. Was nothing sacred anymore? "I don’t know how Kioko found out that I had no wealthy family; that I didn’t even have a true name except for what the doctors had given me in the hospital. I guess it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that she found out, and confronted me, furious that I had lied to her." Mamoru smiled wryly and ran a sweaty palm through his hair. "I hadn’t really lied to her, you know," he continued. "I just…the subject had never come up, and I hadn’t really thought to mention it to her…" He shrugged. "It isn’t something I like to talk about to people, if you haven’t noticed."

"You don’t seem to like to talk to people about a lot of things." Usagi’s quiet observation startled him, distracting him from his thoughts for a moment.

"Maybe. But after the receptions I’ve gotten in the past toward anything I had to say…Well, can you really blame me?" he asked.

She was silent for a moment. "I guess not," she admitted.

Mamoru shrugged. "Anyway," he continued on a sigh, "we fought. It was the worst argument we’d ever been in. We seemed to fight a lot, actually, now that I look back on it. We were both very stubborn people, you know."

"Were?" came the wry question.

He grinned a little, despite himself. "Okay, some of us still are," he replied. "Now be quiet and let me talk." He shifted so that his legs—which were falling asleep beneath him—were in a more comfortable position, stretched out before him while he leaned his back against her bed. The fingers of one hand came up to idly play with the fringe along her blanket, inches away from her leg. She tried not to notice it too much. "Anyway, as I said, we fought," he continued. "Kioko kept throwing all these horrible accusations at me, telling me that I deliberately misled her, that I was only with her because I wanted her money…" He paused, drawing a deep breath. "I can’t tell you how much that hurt, Usagi," he added, hardly aware that he’d actually called her by name for once…although Usagi didn’t miss it. "I loved her for her, not for her money. Money wasn’t that important to me at all! I finally managed to convince her of this, after prostrating myself at her feet for several weeks before she finally forgave me, and things went on as they did before. Only…" He paused, his dark brow furrowing as he shook his head. "Only it was different now."

Usagi leaned forward a little, her gaze fixed intently on Mamoru’s bent head. She said nothing; only waited for him to gather the strength to continue.

"I didn’t want to believe it, at first," he said softly. "I tried to convince myself that it was all in my head, like a delayed reaction to the fight. She was withdrawing from me, a little more each day, although I was as much in love with her as ever. She was like an answer to prayers I’d never dared to utter, someone who finally loved me, after being alone for so long. She seemed so sweet and good and…and I held her on a pedestal, practically worshipped the ground she walked on. I never realized that I was smothering her, wanting to be loved by her so badly, to show her how much I loved her."

Usagi felt a lump rise in her throat, sensing instinctively that this was where it would get especially painful for him. Without thinking, she reached out and carefully laid her hand atop his own, realizing belatedly that such an action might not be welcome. He looked at her in surprise before turning his gaze to her small hand resting atop his larger one, and she held her breath, waiting for the cutting remarks she felt sure were to follow.

She was astonished—and gratified—when he merely turned his hand over so that their palms rested against each other, delicately threading his fingers through her own and giving her hand a gentle squeeze. Her cheeks flamed with color, and she couldn’t meet his gaze, although she knew those incredible smoky eyes were fixed on her.

"It was the day of graduation," his deep voice said softly just below her ear. "We’d received our diplomas; were on our way to the after-graduation party. I’d finally succeeded in getting somewhere in life. I was accepted into a good college. I’d been accepted into several of them, actually, and all of them were in other countries, but I turned them down to attend a local University…all because I didn’t want to be parted from Kioko."

Usagi’s eyes widened. He’d had a chance to attend a school in another country and he refused because of this girl? How could she not have appreciated him for that?!

"I suppose my mistake was not waiting," Mamoru was saying softly. "I-I’d had the feeling that Kioko was feeling a little…pressured. I’d been speaking—very casually—of wanting a family. Of wanting someone to take care of. Kioko wasn’t stupid; she knew very well that I was talking about her, and she’d been doing her best to tell me that she was far from ready for such a step. I just…I didn’t want to listen." He paused and took another deep breath, and Usagi tightened her hand in silent support. "I waited until after the party that night, before I took her home again. Before she left my car, though…I proposed to her.

"And she…and she turned me down."

"Oh, Mamoru…" Usagi’s voice was little more than a pained whisper, and he swallowed against the lump in his throat and managed a reassuring smile.

"It wasn’t that she turned me down," he continued softly. "I…I might have been able to handle it if she’d simply said no. It was the way she said it th-that pretty much shattered everything I’d ever believed about the human race. I wasn’t good enough for her, she said. She had a future ahead of her, one that couldn’t include an orphan who didn’t even know his own name. It was laughable, she said, to think that I actually thought she would marry me. She’d been trying to tell me, all along, and only her pity had kept her from breaking my heart during school, when I’d be jeered at by my peers. She suggested I see a therapist or something, because it was obvious I had serious emotional issues to deal with, and she didn’t want to be held accountable if I decided to go and do something stupid like kill myself after she left."

Mamoru trailed off and risked a glance at Usagi. She was sitting stock-still, staring fixedly at the floor, and her eyes were brilliant with the tears that she was attempting to hold back. "Oi, Usagi-chan…" Alarmed, he turned to face her better, his thumb coming up to catch one of the tears as it escaped to leave a glimmering trail down her face. "Don’t cry," he whispered, his eyes worried. "Please don’t cry. This isn’t…"

"What gave her the right to treat you like that?!" Usagi abruptly exploded, and her eyes were filled with fury. "How could she do that to you, when all you ever did was love her?! Sh-she’s a heartless bitch, that’s what she is! I’d like to go and tear that beautiful hair out and shove it up her…"

"Usagi!" Mamoru was stunned. He hadn’t heard Usagi swear like that before; hadn’t even realized that she even knew words like that! At the same time…he was gratified to know that she cared so strongly about his feelings. "It’s okay. It’s all in the past," he soothed, softly brushing a lock of hair behind her ear.

"I’m sorry, Mamoru," she whimpered, pulling away. "It’s my fault that you had to remember it all again! I…I didn’t understand! I’m sorry…"

"Don’t be," he said firmly. "Look, I’m not upset at you for making me do this. I chose to tell you about her. I chose to relive the memories. And do you know why?"

She sniffled and shook her head.

"I told you because…I found that I wasn’t able to stand the fact that my treatment of you might have driven you away from me for good," he told her gently, his eyes warm and soft as he fixed them upon her own.

Her breath caught in her lungs as she stared into those eyes, losing herself in their mysterious depths for the second time. "I…I wasn’t ever really m-mad at you, Mamoru," she stammered, trying to keep hold of her rapidly-departing senses.

"Yes, you were," he replied with a smile. "Even you have a limit to your patience, and I’ve done all I could to push you beyond it in the past. And maybe…now that I’ve actually spoken to you about this…I understand now why I did so."

"Y-you do?" she squeaked. Then, with a bit of her old spirit, she added hotly, "Well, good! ‘Cause I certainly never understood it!"

Mamoru laughed outright at that. "Then allow me to explain?" he suggested slyly.

She crossed her arms and smirked. "Go right ahead."

Mamoru nodded and sat back. "You remind me a lot of Kioko," he began, and smiled at her outraged squeak, placing a soothing hand on her knee that quite made her forget her indignation. He stroked a thumb over her skin briefly and was rewarded with a sharply-indrawn breath. "Kioko, as I said, was one of the most beautiful girls I’d ever met." He paused significantly. "At the time." He sneaked a glance upward. "Of course, that was before I met you," he added casually, and was pleased to see the way her jaw dropped in surprise. "But you see, the reason I think you’re so beautiful isn’t because you have so much beauty on the outside—although, don’t get me wrong, I really think you are beautiful—but because you have so much beauty on the inside."

"Wh-what do you mean?" She sounded faint, and he gently stroked the skin of her knee with his large hand, his smile widening.

"I mean just what I said," he replied seriously. "Outer beauty fades over time, but inner beauty is everlasting, and the amount I’ve seen in you is…is more than what I’ve seen in anyone else I’ve ever met. You nearly radiate light, and that’s almost frightening to someone who has lived for so long in the shadows. That’s why I fought so hard to keep you away from me. Not because you were particularly drawn to me…but because I was just so helplessly drawn to you. After Kioko, I’d sworn off women for the rest of my life, deciding that they were nothing more than a bunch of vultures who cared for nothing but their own well-being, no matter how sweet-faced and loving and gentle they appeared. You managed to prove every misconception I had wrong, every time."

"Um…Sorry?" Usagi clearly didn’t know what to say to that, and he laughed softly.

"I guess what I’m trying to say here, Usagi, is that…well…I’m sorry. I’m sorry for treating you so horribly, when all you deserve is to get back some of the love that you’re so capable of giving to everyone else. I certainly don’t deserve any hint of kindness on your part, but I can’t help longing for it." He turned around to face her, rising to his knees so that their eyes were level with each other. His gaze was dark and intense as he stared into Usagi’s wavering eyes. She was uncertain, but he could see the hope in her eyes, the hidden longing, and that was enough to give him the courage to speak his next words.

"What I ask of you now, Usagi, is for you to…to love me, the way Kioko never did." He heard her gasp, and plunged ahead before she could say anything; before he completely lost his nerve and fled from the room. "Because now, more than anything," he continued, his voice shaking slightly, "I think…I think that I love you, in a way that I never loved Kioko. And I want…I want to show you that, to prove it to you so that you’d never doubt it. If you’ll…give me a chance."

There was utter silence in the room, and he held his breath, waiting for whatever decision she made, be it good or bad. He would get by, somehow. He’d survived before, but he knew it would be a lot harder this time around, if she rejected him. He thought his soul might die.

So be it. He would not pressure her. It was her choice alone.

After a long, silent time—right when Mamoru was feeling his hope slipping away from him like sand through his fingers—there was a tentative touch on his hand. He looked down to see Usagi’s hand once again resting atop his own, her little fingers just brushing the skin. Slowly, almost reverently, he turned his palm over, so that their fingers could once again mesh and thread, and he looked up breathlessly, only to see a bright smile on Usagi’s face as she regarded those selfsame hands.

"I-I’m sorry that Kioko hurt you so much," she began shyly. "But…I’m not sorry about what she did." He stiffened slightly, but her next words put him immediately at ease again. "Kioko was stupid. But…if she had accepted your proposal, then you wouldn’t be here with me now, would you? I…I never would have met you at all." Her hand tightened around his own. "I don’t…I can’t really imagine what my life would be like without you in it anymore. But I think…I think I’d be awfully lonely."

Her eyes slowly lifted until they met his own, and her breath caught at the intense emotion that glowed within their dark depths. "I never wanted to be your enemy, Mamoru-san," she continued shyly. "A-and…I…I wouldn’t mind…being a little more than…just your friend."

Mamoru spoke not a single word as he drew Usagi’s hand to his mouth and pressed a tender kiss into the middle of her palm. She could feel the soft velvet of his lips trembling against her sensitive skin, and the sensation caused a warm shiver to race up her spine. "M-Mamou," she whispered, closing her eyes against the incredible feeling. "I won’t tell anyone else about…what you told me. Not even about you being an orphan, if you don’t want me to. Not even to my best friends! Y-you can trust me, honestly you can. I wouldn’t ever do anything to betray it."

"I know that," he whispered against her palm. "I’ve always known that, I just didn’t want to believe it." He looked up at her, his eyes lidded. "You’ve never done anything to make me doubt my trust in you…or anything else, for that matter."

His hand came up to thread through her soft hair, and temptation overcame him as he gently tugged her unresisting face forward, bringing his lips to rest upon hers at the same moment in a tender and undemanding kiss. She melted into his arms, and he used the opportunity to draw her closer, wrapping her in a protective embrace as he sought to deepen their kiss, nibbling ever-so-gently at the warm flesh. She whimpered softly in response.

After long, heady moments, he finally lifted his mouth from hers, already missing the warmth of her lips against his own. "I think I could really learn to enjoy that," he whispered teasingly, noting the way she trembled ever-so-slightly in his arms, and the swollen state of her lips, so tempting to him now. "We should have tried that a long time ago, don’t you think?" he asked, making her blush deepen even more as she nodded shyly.

A rhythmic pounding of footsteps on the stairs abruptly drew them out of the dream-world that they’d fallen into and back to reality where they belonged. Mamoru reluctantly released Usagi, who did her best to straighten her rather rumpled appearance, still blushing profusely. Shingo passed by Usagi’s door on the way to his bedroom, not bothering to look in, and she heaved a sigh of relief.

"Y-you’d probably better leave now," she began slowly. "I don’t know when my parents will be coming home, and my father will kill you if he catches you in my bedroom…or in the house at all, for that matter." She smiled wryly and was rewarded with another soft kiss, before Mamoru rose to his feet and took her hand in his own. They walked to the front door together. Usagi faced him uncertainly, biting her still-tingling lip. "Th-this isn’t a dream is it?" she asked hesitantly. "I mean…I won’t wake up and everything will be the way it was before, will it? I don’t…I don’t think my heart could take it if it was."

"If it makes you feel any better…neither could mine," he replied with a slight smile, pulling her close again and resting his face against her hair. "But we’ll see, ne? Dreams are only our hearts telling us what our heads don’t want to hear. Even if we do wake up in the morning, and everything was like it was before, it’s only a matter of time before our heads begin to see the truth our hearts already know. No matter what…we’ll be together. Because we love each other."

Usagi wrapped him in a tight hug at those words, smiling almost giddily. He loved her. He really, truly loved her, as much as she knew that she loved him. She couldn’t keep the grin off her face when she pulled back to look at him, but that didn’t matter, because he was sporting a pretty big grin of his own. He looked happier than she could remember seeing him look since she first met him, and she was proud of the fact that it was she who had made him feel that way.

Mamoru simply gazed at her for another long moment, as though he couldn’t quite believe that she was real. Then, he leaned in, kissed the corner of her mouth, and gave her a playful wink. "I’ll be seeing you around…Odango Atama," he murmured in a low voice, and before she could retaliate he had opened the door and vanished on the other side of it.

Usagi stared after him for a moment, before bursting into giggles and leaning back against the closed door, shaking her head wryly. It seemed that some things, at least, would never change. She closed her eyes to better savor the memory of those soft kisses, finding herself to be eager for the next time they’d meet. Friend, or foe, or anything else they might be…one thing was for certain. Her life would never be dull so long as Chiba Mamoru was in it.

And she wouldn’t have had it any other way.