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Silver and Steel by Nephthys Moon
 | Practical Joke |  |
This story contains adult material. If you are not of legal age, leave this page now.
Four Years Later
She was late.
This was nothing new; over the four years since the accident, she had managed to bring up her grades, get a scholarship to Tokyo University and she had finally learned to walk without tripping over everything in her path- but one thing she had yet to overcome was her habitual tardiness. In the eighteen years that she’d been alive, she had probably been on time for a dozen things; her mother often teased her, saying that she’d been born two weeks late and it had ruined her for life. Usagi wasn’t sure she believed that, ; though she was honest enough to admit that it sounded like her, at least.
In this case, however, being late wasn’t an option. It was her first day of classes at TU and she’d never in her life wanted to make such a good impression, and never had she felt like she was less likely to. Her tardiness was one of the few things she hadn’t accepted since the accident. The fact that her parents were hiding something from her, something that was huge, had become apparent within the first few months after the accident – she’d learned to accept that. Whatever it was, it had to be important that they not tell her, or they certainly would have done so by now. She’d learned to accept that she would most likely never remember those three months leading up to the accident, nor ever know exactly what the accident itself was, but she would never accept that she would be late for everything. That she would eat everything in sight, yes. That she would sleep as much as possible, yes. But that she would never be on time? Definitely not. It was undignified in a young woman of eighteen, she decided as she ran across the campus; a piece of toast in her mouth and her school bag banging painfully against her leg.
She rounded a corner, knowing that the door she needed was nearly within sight when she went flying, landing painfully on her rear end and sucking her toast down on a gasp. She coughed, trying to dislodge the offending piece of food as she attempted to get to her feet. She gave up when she realized that the toast was not coming out and she was having trouble breathing. Strong hands pounded on her back, forcing the saliva-coated bread from her windpipe to the floor and she knelt on all fours, taking in gulping breaths to try to force her lungs to function again.
“Thank you,” she gasped gratefully. “I’m sorry I ran into you,” she added, realizing that she must have hit the person very hard to have fallen that way.
“Apologize later, Odango. For now just focus on breathing – you have enough trouble doing that anyway.” The voice was annoyingly familiar, and she realized belatedly that the fine hairs on the back of her neck had come to attention the moment she’d made contact with the wall of male chest that had knocked her to the ground.
“Baka,” she grunted weakly, still trying to catch her breath. “As soon as I can breathe again…” she let the threat die as a cough bubbled out of her throat, forcing her into silence as she dropped her head to the smooth floor of the hallway. She flinched when she felt a hand rubbing her back briskly.
“I’m not going to hurt you, Odango,” he muttered irritably. “Believe it or not, I’m trying to help you.” Rationally, Usagi knew that. It wasn’t the first time she’d flinched away from his touch, however. She could recall at least a couple dozen encounters over the past few years – little things like his hand over hers as he helped her with a particularly difficult math problem one afternoon at the arcade when she’d been alone and frustrated – his touch scared her. She knew he wouldn’t hurt her; for all his annoyingly superior smugness, even she recognized that he was a good person at heart, but she couldn’t help the instinctive reaction. It was as though her body feared him and didn’t want him near her. As far as she was concerned, it was enough reason to keep up the barriers that they’d erected from their very first meeting; no matter how good a person he really was, she couldn’t shake it and had long ago decided not to bother trying.
“I’m fine,” she ground out, pushing herself from the floor to her feet. She watched as Mamoru walked towards her fallen bag and handed it to her with a concerned expression on his face. “I promise,” she added with an exaggerated smile.
“Late for class?” he asked teasingly, and she nodded, not bothering to deny it. She had taken away so many of his reasons for teasing her over the years since the accident that she didn’t begrudge him the one. Besides, she knew from Makoto that he and the other survivors lived in their apartment building – in the apartment above theirs, actually. Motoki lived with them, just as Naru lived with the girls. Being blatantly rude was against the unspoken rules of their battles and it just wasn’t neighborly.
“Better get going then, Odango-chan,” he reminded her, and she nodded again before offering him a half-hearted wave and dashing towards the door. He shook his head at her slowly as she ran away and chuckled to himself. If nothing else, the girl was good for a laugh.
~~~
“Soon, Princess.” The voice was female, deep and sensual. “Very soon I will be free, and then I will join you as I was meant to. Soon.”
~~~
“Usagi-chan? Are you home?” Usagi looked at the open doorway of the bedroom she shared with Makoto.
“In here, Naru-chan,” she called, letting the other girl know where to find her. A few moments later a red head popped into view.
“Are you doing homework?” Naru asked with her eyes wide. “On your first Friday night as a college student?” Usagi laughed and nodded.
“Yeah, Professor Sugimoto said that anyone would didn’t turn in their lab report first thing Monday morning would be forever known as ‘Tsukino, the Pea Brain’.” Professor Sugimoto was her least favorite of her teachers. The man was an absolute terror and had insulted half the class already by deeming them Pea Brains every time they answered a question incorrectly; a correct answer garnered a ‘Pumpkin Brain’. She rolled her eyes just thinking about it. Naru stared at her in wonderment for a long moment and then shook her head.
“No, I refuse to let you do this,” she said decisively. “You’re going out tonight, Usagi-chan. I don’t care if you just go down to the coffee shop on the corner, but you are not spending the entire weekend in your bedroom working on that lab report.”
“What are you doing tonight?” Usagi asked and Naru gave her a wicked grin.
“Motoki is having a party downstairs and we’ll finally get to meet these mysterious roommates,” she whispered conspiratorially. “Mamoru, of course, is going to the library so he can study for his med school entrance exams – that don’t come until the end of the year.” Usagi nodded. It sounded like something he’d do; he really didn’t know how to have fun at all.
“You should come, Usagi-chan!” Naru cajoled. “It’ll be fun!”
“Nope, not gonna happen, Naru-chan,” Usagi said with a laugh and a shake of her head. “I’m going to finish this lab report if it takes me until the sun comes up. But you’re right – I should probably go get some coffee. At the very least, the caffeine will keep me awake and the change of scenery might help me focus a bit better.” Naru sighed in resignation and waved at her, walking towards the bedroom she shared with Ami.
Usagi stood and cracked the bones in her neck; she was really tense, she decided. Coffee was just the thing. She pulled on a pair of comfortable jeans and a plain pink t-shirt, tugging a black sweater over it to guard against the chill of the brisk autumn wind. She’d taken her odangos out earlier in the afternoon and pulled her hair into a braid at the base of her skull – it wasn’t her usual look, but it would have to do. Now that she’d decided to have coffee, she was eager to get out of the apartment. She slid her books into her bag and walked to the front door, where she slipped into a pair of black flats she thought might be Minako’s. At least, she hoped they were Minako’s; if they were Rei’s, she was in for an earful later. She shrugged and checked to make sure she had her key before she walked out the front door.
Ten minutes later she was settled comfortably in a tiny red booth in the back corner of the coffee house, a booth that reminded her comfortably of the arcade. She picked up her cup and took a sip of the fragrant beverage, noting that it thankfully tasted better than the sludge Motoki used to serve. She pulled out her Chemistry book and her lab notes, wincing as she realized how little of the report she’d actually managed to complete in the two hours between her own arrival at home and Naru’s. Usagi chewed thoughtfully on the eraser of the pink bunny pencil as she reviewed her notes, wondering what exactly it would take for the information on the page to make sense to her.
If she’d looked up, or even paid attention to her peripheral vision, she would have noticed the dark figure standing outside the glass, looking at her in surprise long before Mamoru plopped down across from her at the small table and pulled out his own books. Of course, she was so engrossed in her notes that she didn’t even realize he was there until five minutes later when she reached for her cup without looking and had her hand swatted away.
“Get your own,” he muttered, and she looked up at him in shock, noting that her hand was indeed hovering over his cup instead of her own, which was now empty.
“What are you doing?” she hissed in irritation, glaring at him through the glasses perched on his nose.
“Studying, Odango,” he retorted. “Given your grades the past few years, which you’ve taken every opportunity to rub in my face, I had figured you’d at least learned about the concept.” She rolled her eyes; it really was a weak comeback from him.
“I realized that, Baka,” she muttered. “I meant what are you doing at my table?” He deigned to look at her, tearing his eyes away from his textbook for a moment to give her a clear view of them rolling sarcastically.
“Having a coffee and studying, Odango,” he said, turning his attention back to his book. “I thought it was fairly obvious.” She felt her jaw clenching and resisted the urge to reach across the table and shake him.
“I can see that,” she said through gritted teeth. “The question is why here, and why my table?” He shrugged without looking up and she dropped her head to the table in frustration. The conversation was going nowhere, she decided, tugging her sweater over her head and dropping it next to her on the seat. Two could play this game, as she’d learned years ago. She returned her attention to her notes in front of her, missing the self-satisfied smirk on his lips as they fell into silent study.
~~~
“It’s been four years, Luna,” Artemis said from the former lair of the Senshi under the arcade. “If they were going to act, they would have done so by now.” Luna was forced to agree.
“What do we do now, then?” she asked wearily. She was tired of her existence; what good was being the advisor to Princess Serenity if Serenity didn’t even know who she herself was, let alone who her advisor was? Besides, she’d grown to love Usagi for Usagi during the time that the girl had been Sailor Moon and she missed her.
“Prepare.”
The voice was female, husky – sensual, even. Luna and Artemis spun in unison and found the intruder, dropping to deep bows immediately before the woman in the black and garnet fuku.
“Prepare?” Artemis asked and the woman nodded.
“The timestream has been altered. They should have remembered by now,” she said, her voice soft. “Something was changed and the future is in jeopardy. She meant well, but when she influenced Usagi’s wish after she defeated Metalia, she destroyed the future of the galaxy and it must be set to rights I will do what I must to correct this, but it will be up to you two to be prepared. The Senshi will be called into service again, and soon. The Dark Queen comes.”
The woman disappeared in a flash of light and the two cats were left staring at the space she’d occupied. “You follow Usagi-chan,” Artemis whispered, as though still in awe of what he had seen. “I’ll follow Minako-chan.” Luna nodded her agreement and they made their way to the door.
~~~
An hour passed in silence as the two studied and Usagi was pleased to realize that he was actually a restful companion. It wasn’t the first time they’d managed to not argue – in fact, they often tried to avoid it around the others. Granted, that was only because Rei had gotten them both to sign an agreement that stated if they argued in public whichever person was determined to have started it would be on duty at the Hikawa Jinja the following weekend. Usagi remembered the horrible weekends vividly from her days in high school and she had no desire to repeat them. She also remembered how exactly Rei had gotten her to sign the thing in the first place.
She smiled at the memory of a much younger Usagi that had mistaken an alcoholic beverage for harmless punch at a New Year’s celebration. Rei had taken advantage of the situation and had coerced her into confessing that she did, despite prior claims, find Mamoru attractive (she wasn’t blind, after all). If she’d known she was being recorded, she would have never admitted such a thing, and it was to keep Rei’s silence in the matter that she’d signed the stupid agreement in the first place. She often wondered what Rei had done to make Mamoru sign it. She’d often thought about asking, but she was afraid he’d return the question and she had yet to think of a plausible lie.
“I’m getting a refill,” he said, breaking into her thoughts. “You want one?” She nodded mutely and turned her attention back to her notes.
“I’ll get the next round,” she muttered, adding a few lines to her report. She barely noticed Mamoru’s return with their coffees.
They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes before Mamoru looked up and stretched happily. “What’re you working on, Odango?”
“Chem I lab report,” she muttered irritably without looking up. She felt, rather than saw, his raised eyebrows. “Yes, Baka, I’m taking Chem I,” she teased.
“I didn’t say anything, Odango,” he said defensively and she laughed.
“No, but you were thinking it,” she claimed. He chuckled.
“Alright, you caught me,” he admitted. “You know I haven’t been able to tease you about your grades for years.”
That did make her look up with a smile. “While that’s true, and the last time I remember you doing it was the day we met,” she said, “I still get the feeling that you did it a lot in those three months.” He laughed loudly, causing several heads to turn in their direction.
“I have the same feeling,” he said with a wink. Her giggles joined his deep chuckles and several patrons looked at them reprovingly. “Speaking of feelings,” he muttered, looking around, “I have the feeling that we might have worn out our welcome tonight.” Usagi nodded.
“Let’s get out of here,” she agreed. “You’ve got a party to attend, right?” Mamoru shrugged. “Well, if you don’t want to go to the party, we can continue studying at our place – all the girls are at the party.”
“Thanks, Odango,” he muttered “Motoki and the boys are a bit too rambunctious for my tastes when it comes to parties.”
They stood and gathered their belongings. Usagi pulled her sweater back on, pulling the long braid out to lie flat against her back and slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Ready?” she asked, noting that Mamoru was staring at her with an indescribable expression on his face.
“Yeah,” he said, shaking his head as though to clear it. “I guess I never realized how long your hair was”
“The ‘odango’ as you call them, take up a decent amount of the length,” she admitted. They walked out the door and down the crowded street for the two blocks to their building in silence. She let them in with her key and flicked on the lights, illuminating the eclectic decorating of six girls.
“Coffee?” she asked, kicking off the borrowed shoes and tossing her bag on the sofa as she passed it on her way to the kitchen.
“Nah, I think I’ve had enough for one day,” he muttered. “Juice if you have it.” She nodded and pulled two glasses from the cabinet, filling them both with orange juice from the fridge and carrying them back into the living room. She tried to get angry at the sight of Mamoru lounging on her sofa with his feet on her coffee table, remote in hand, but it was simply too funny to see the big man perfectly at home on a pink couch.
Usagi put the glass next to his feet and swatted at them. “Off the table, Baka,” she teased, stepping over his legs (which he clearly was not planning on moving) to sit in the opposite corner of the couch. They settled in quietly, Mamoru flipping through the channels until he found an old movie on and stopped.
“Godzilla?” she asked, raising her eyebrow at him. “Really?”
“It’s a classic,” he answered. She laughed and shrugged. As odd as the occurrence was, he was her guest and she supposed she would just have to suffer through the torturous movie. She laughed a bit at the idea – Mamoru was her houseguest. Motoki and the girls would never believe it.
“What?” he asked, turning to look at her as she doubled over in laughter.
“Just imagining Motoki-kun’s face if he were to walk in right now, that’s all.” The words were gasped out around her giggles and his rich laughter joined hers. “Popcorn?” she offered.
“That sounds great,” he said with a nod, turning his attention back to the screen. She stood and returned to the kitchen, tossing a bag of popcorn into the microwave.
“Baka, listen for the popcorn – I’m going to change into my pjs.” She didn’t wait to see if he would oblige her, instead turning directly for her room and closing the door behind her. She pulled off her sweater and shirt and shucked her jeans down her legs, tossing the clothes into her hamper before she reached for her nightclothes. She pulled on the pink tank and matching capris, enjoying the softness of the cotton against her skin. She reached around for the end of her braid and pulled out the tie holding it, combing her fingers through her long locks until she’d untangled the braid.
Not for the first time, she wondered if she should cut her hair; it really was impractical to have it so long, and it was very heavy. Most days saw her with a headache from the sheer weight of it by the time she went to bed. She shrugged absently and grabbed a comb from her dresser, splitting her hair into two sections and securing each behind her ear with hairbands in a lower, slightly modified version of her traditional pigtails. The ends were tangled again and she sighed. She’d have to ask Makoto to help her with that again before she went to bed.
She rejoined Mamoru in the living room, smiling slightly at the intent look on his face as he watched the black and white movie. He really was good-looking, she admitted silently. It was a pity that he was such a jerk. Not tonight, a sly voice murmured in her head and she gave a mental shrug. When she reclaimed her position on the sofa he put a bowl of popcorn on the cushion between them without looking away from the screen.
Grateful that she’d thought to grab her laptop before she left her bedroom, she shrugged and pulled her notes out of her bag and opened her laptop. It was pink, of course, as were so many things in her life, and it was one of the first things she’d bought with her pay from the one summer she’d worked for Motoki at the arcade. When the machine booted up, she opened her word processing program and began to type up the handwritten lab report, leaning over the coffee table with her hair forming small pools at her feet.
“Your hair is tangled, Odango,” Mamoru said with a teasing note in his voice and she rolled her eyes. He couldn’t just let her study in peace!
“I know that, but it’s nearly impossible for me to brush it properly myself – Mako-chan usually helps me,” she added petulantly. “I keep thinking I should cut it, but the girls get this funny look on their face whenever I mention it – kind of like the one you’ve got right now,” she added, looking up to see him horror-struck at the words.
“Go get your brush,” he ordered. “I’ll help you.” She knew her eyebrows had vanished into her bangs, but she couldn’t help it. Mamoru was actually offering to help her when there were no witnesses? She stared at him until he met her gaze and said, “Well?”
“Nothing,” she muttered, standing up to go back to her room and get her brush. She’d picked it up off her dresser when she noticed a dark figure standing behind her and spun, prepared to scream. “BAKA!” she shouted. “You scared me!”
“I figured I’d just follow you in here to see if there was a particular way to do this,” he said quietly and she nodded, handing him the hairbrush before she reached up and removed the hairbands.
“Normally I sit on the bed with my back to Mako-chan and she kneels on the floor behind me,” she whispered, suddenly realizing how terribly intimate it would be to have him in her room, brushing her hair. “I can sit on the couch the same way, though,” she added hastily, noting his relieved expression. They walked back to the living room in silence and she sat on the sofa with her back facing him, her hair spilling down to the floor.
Usagi felt him kneeling behind her moments before he picked up the ends of her hair and began to methodically pull the brush through the ends. “This must get annoying,” he muttered, tugging her hair teasingly.
“I’m sure Mako-chan feels that way from time to time,” she said with a shrug. “I find it soothing, though.”
“Even when I’m the one doing it?” he asked curiously. She nodded. Before either of them could speak, a sudden commotion at the front door caused Usagi to whip her head around swiftly – and fifteen pounds of silver-blonde hair to knock Mamoru into the sofa, spilling popcorn over himself and the floor. In her mad scramble to check on Mamoru, she lost her balance and knocked him to the floor, her body sprawled across his, popcorn everywhere.
“Usagi-chan,” Minako called from the door of the living room, “are we interrupting you and your new frie – Mamoru-san?” Usagi groaned and dropped her head to the floor beside his head.
“We’re never going to hear the end of this,” she muttered in his ear. She could feel the eyes of her roommates on them and she wondered if there was any way she could explain this without hearing about it for the rest of her life.
“We might if you hurry up and get off me,” he whispered, trying to sit up. She pulled herself off him, using the coffee table as leverage and looked down in dismay at the tangles in her hair. Without thinking, she reached down and grabbed Mamoru’s hand to pull him to his feet, oblivious to the startled looks she received from all sides as she stared at the popcorn snarled into her hair.
“That’s IT!” she shouted furiously. “Someone get me a pair of scissors!”
“No!” every voice in the room shouted together. Usagi glared at them all and held out her hand expectantly.
“Don’t be stupid, Odango,” Mamoru muttered, bending down so the others couldn’t hear him. “We’ll just start over.”
Usagi looked up to see Makoto staring at them oddly, as though she’d heard what he’d said and misinterpreted it – but of course that was impossible. She couldn’t have heard his voice; he had spoken very softly. “I’ll pick up the popcorn,” the tall brunette offered.
“Naru-chan said you were probably down here working on your lab report,” Ami began. “We thought if we all came down we could convince you to come upstairs with us.”
“Yeah,” Minako added, staring at the scene curiously. “You really should come meet those roommates! How you’ve kept them from us for four years I’ll never know, Mamoru-san.” Usagi rolled her eyes.
“Oh, please – you don’t want to introduce Usagi to them, you want them for yourself,” Rei muttered, and the two girls stared at one another in an increasingly hostile manner. Naru shook her head.
“Look, Usagi-chan – you’re already in your pajamas and obviously you and Mamoru-san were doing something before we came in, so why don’t we just go back downstairs without you?” she offered peaceably. Usagi decided to ignore the implications in her statement and nodded forcefully. The girls offered bows of apology and shuffled back to the hallway, whispering and giggling as they did. Makoto finished picking up the popcorn that had spilled on the floor and darted after them, shooting Usagi a thumbs up on her way out.
“Well, this sucks,” Usagi muttered when she heard the door slam. Mamoru nodded.
“Motoki will hear about this within five minutes and so will the others,” he agreed. “We really are never going to hear the end of it.” Usagi dropped her head dejectedly, imagining the comments she would get in the morning from her roommates when an evil idea popped into her head and she turned to face her companion with a diabolical smirk.
“I know that look,” he said fearfully. “That’s your ‘I’m going to get you back for this’ look.” He took two steps backward, hitting the back of his legs on the sofa and falling into the seat.
“Don’t worry,” she said soothingly. “I’m not going to get you back for it.” Her smile grew wider and she watched as the fear slid off his face, replaced by a look of curiosity and cunning.
“Motoki and the girls?” he asked, one eyebrow raised in inquiry. She nodded. “Jump up here, Odango. You can tell me about it while I fix your hair.” Usagi returned to her position on the couch with her back to Mamoru as he brushed the snarls from her hair and she outlined her plan.
“That’s brilliant,” he crowed, laughter in his voice. “They won’t know what hit them!” Be careful, Usagi-chan, that voice whispered again. A flash of recognition hit her suddenly and she nearly doubled over, only stopping herself because she didn’t want to have to explain it to Mamoru. It certainly wasn’t the first time that Usagi had heard a voice inside her mind – a voice she didn’t recognize but felt she should. She could remember it very clearly, the first time she heard it.
It was a Saturday, a week after she’d been released from the hospital, and she was at the arcade, sitting in front of the Sailor V game. Haven’t you forgotten something? She spun around, determined to find the source of the voice – it was familiar, strangely so, and for the oddest reason she visualized the face of a black cat with an oddly shaped bald spot on its forehead.
When a quick perusal of the room showed that she was not being watched and that no one was near enough to have said anything, she turned back to the game, frustrated that she’d lost.
Honestly, Usagi-chan, don’t you think you should have remembered by now?
She stood up slowly and turned in a circle, peeking to make sure that there was no one hiding in the seats nearest her. For some reason, she couldn’t shake the image of the black cat – she’d never even owned one. Well, if you won’t remember, the very least you can do is go home and write your English paper!
Usagi jumped, startled. She took a deep breath and tried to analyze what was going on, coming to the conclusion that she had clearly gone crazy. She was hearing a voice in her head, a voice she was certain belonged to a cat she’d never seen, and the cat was lecturing her about remembering things and doing her homework. She felt herself nodding, and knew that hysterical laughter was only a deep breath away.
“I’ve lost it,” she whispered to herself. “Really and truly lost it.”
“Usagi-chan?” The familiar voice belonged to Motoki, the boy that worked in the arcade. Usagi turned to face him with a falsely cheerful smile. “Are you okay?”
“Motoki-onii-san, have you ever heard a voice in your head tell you to do homework?” she asked hopefully.
Motoki laughed a bit and smiled, nodding his head. “Sure. It’s your conscience, Usagi-chan. It’s there to remind you that sometimes we can’t do what we want to do; we have to take care of our responsibilities first.”
“So I’m not crazy?”
“Sure you are, Odango,” an annoyingly familiar voice replied. Motoki frowned and Usagi felt the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stick up.
“If I’m not,” she muttered under her breath, “I definitely will be soon if you don’t leave me alone.” Without waiting for a response, she spun on her heel and stalked out of the arcade, furious with the fates that seemed determined to throw Mamoru into her path and slightly relieved that Motoki had a voice inside his head, too.
Of course, she was pretty sure Motoki’s conscience didn’t speak to him in the voice of a black cat.
Within a few weeks, Usagi had learned to live with the voice. She accepted that everyone had a conscience, and when it wasn’t begging her to remember (remember what, she couldn’t help but wonder) it was guilting her into studying. At least eighty percent of her grade increase was due to the studying she’d done to make the voice shut up. That the voice didn’t approve of her plan was nothing new, really. It had often not approved of her thoughts and while she normally tried to humor it (it wasn’t quite as annoying then) this would be one time she didn’t.
“I rather thought so,” she said, bringing herself back to the present and brushing aside the feline’s voice. “How’s the hair coming?”
“Nearly finished,” Mamoru muttered, holding a lock of it in his hand firmly and tugging the brush through a persistent tangle. When the brush moved through without resistance, he tapped her on the shoulder and she turned around gratefully. “You sure you want to do this?”
“Absolutely.” Her voice was wicked with anticipation. “Rei is gonna just die.”
“Well, we should hurry up and get settled before they come back with the whole crew,” Mamoru urged, standing and making his way towards her bedroom. She smiled, following him and closing the door behind her.
“Do you want to be against the wall or on the outside?” she asked politely, as though it were an every day occurrence for Mamoru to be sharing her bed. He thought about it for a moment and smirked.
“Outside, I think. We want to make sure Mako-chan notices right away,” he explained. She nodded. “I’ll just – uh – turn around so you can change.” She nodded, a hot blush going to her cheeks as she spun to put her back to her biggest tormenter-turned-co-conspirator. She walked to her dresser and tried not to look at the bare back in the mirror as she pulled her one slinky nightgown out of the drawer. Suddenly, this didn’t seem like such a good plan at all. She would be nearly naked in a bed next to a nearly naked Mamoru – and her body was definitely allergic to his. It proved it every time he tried to touch her.
“Can I turn around yet?” he asked and she shook her head, forgetting for a moment that he couldn’t see her.
“No, not yet,” she said quietly, slipping out of her comfy cotton pajamas and into the short silky gown. She made her way to the bed and climbed under the covers, turning her back towards the edge and scooting over towards the wall. “Now.”
The bed dipped down behind her and the light went out. Usagi’s eyes struggled to adjust to the darkness and her body tensed, waiting for the touch of his bare chest against her back. “I won’t hurt you, Usagi-chan,” he whispered soothingly, his arm reaching across her body to settle at her waist. He tugged her into his chest and she waited for her body’s reaction, but it didn’t come. Instead, there was a slight tingle in her shoulder where his breath was hot against her skin and a tugging feeling in her stomach where his hand was draped; neither was unpleasant, exactly, but they were certainly foreign. “Sleep while you can,” he murmured. “When Mako-chan comes in here and sees this, I have a feeling that all hell is going to break loose.” Usagi forced her giggles down, the image of Makoto’s face when she walked into their bedroom making her nearly hysterical.
~~~
“He’s dead!” Luna shouted from the balcony outside Usagi’s apartment. Artemis leapt up to join her from the floor below.
“What’s wrong?” he asked comfortingly, noting that her eyes were narrowed and there was a look on her face that spoke of murder.
“Mamoru is in my innocent Usagi’s bed!” she growled. He shook his head.
“I know we would have hoped that it wouldn’t have happened quite this way, but aren’t you overreacting?” he asked calmly, his tone soothing.
“He’s not there because either of them want him to be there,” she grumbled, snorting at his ignorance. “He’s there because they are playing some kind of practical joke on the girls because they made the worst out of one of Usagi-chan’s klutz attacks earlier.”
“Well…” he trailed off, unable to find any logic in the actions. “Whose harebrained idea was this?” he asked curiously, afraid he already knew the answer.
“Which one of them is named after a rabbit?” Luna spat, irritated.
“Did you try to talk her out of it?” Artemis demanded, amazed that she would let this happen in her fury.
“Of course I did,” she fumed. “Usagi-chan dismissed me! It’s one of the few times she has.” The last was added quietly, as though it hurt her feelings when her mistress ignored her.
~~~
Motoki groaned. Makoto was heavier than she looked, and at the moment he was supporting her extremely drunken frame through her apartment towards her bedroom. Ami and Naru had left earlier and made their way upstairs. Neither girl was much of a drinker and had barely touched their drinks all night. Makoto, on the other hand…he shook his head. Of course, he hadn’t seen Rei or Minako in quite some time, now that he considered it. And Zoisite was passed out on the sofa…Oh, dear.
He mentally shrugged; he wasn’t responsible for Minako and Rei’s morals. Right now his only responsibility was to make sure that Makoto made it to her bed unmolested – though the way her breasts were brushing against his chest as she stumbled was making that a rather difficult proposition. He steeled his resolve and pushed her through the living room, noting the hairbrush lying on the coffee table with confusion before another stumble put Makoto firmly into his arms – and her breasts firmly into his chest. He sucked in a breath, ignoring her throaty chuckles at the action.
“Come on, Mako-chan,” he muttered through clenched teeth. He’d been celibate since Reika’s death and his body was reacting in a very betraying way to the slender brunette with the lush curves. “Let’s get you to bed.” She laughed again.
“That sounds like fun, Motoki-kun,” she whispered in what she probably thought was a seductive manner – and might have been had she not slurred around her words, making it sound more like, “Tha’ shoundsh li’ fun, ‘otoki-ku.” He shook his head.
“Alone, Mako-chan,” he clarified. “You’re sloshed, kiddo.” She rolled her eyes and opened the door to her bedroom, switching on the overhead light. Motoki blinked, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the brightness and ignoring the bare shoulder he saw emerging from Usagi’s bedclothes. Did she usually sleep topless like that, he wondered.
“Whoshe tha’?” Makoto asked suddenly, pointing at Usagi’s bed. Motoki looked, praying he wasn’t about to violate the privacy of the blonde girl in the worst possible way – and saw black. He blinked. Usagi’s hair wasn’t black, nor was it that short. In fact, he could think of only one person who had hair that color. He scanned the bare shoulder, praying that he was wrong, that he would not find a tattoo of a climbing rose on a crescent moon and closed his eyes, wondering if he pretended he didn’t actually see it that it would go away. He opened them again and saw to his horror that it was still there.
“Mamoru,” he breathed. Makoto’s eyes widened and the film of drunkenness seemed to slip from them immediately.
“In Usagi-chan’s bed?” she asked as though she was just as shocked as he was. He nodded, noting the silver-blonde hair spread over his best friend’s arm, hiding the face of the other occupant. The length, if not the color, was enough to tell him that the other person was definitely Usagi. They stared for ong moments in silence before Makoto let out an ear-piercing shriek, making the two in the bed jump into a seated position, turning to face them.
“What’s wrong, Mako-chan?” Ami asked from the doorway, Naru on her heels. Makoto only pointed at the still bleary-eyed couple in the bed, Mamoru with his arm protectively around Usagi’s shoulders, his bare chest clearly visible against the pink covers. Four jaws dropped to the floor as she snuggled into his arms, resting her face against his chest and staring at them reproachfully.
Motoki was speechless. He’d often wondered if those two might have a hidden affection for each other under the insults and bickering, especially on the few occasions he’d witnessed them, unobserved, actually being somewhat nice to one another, but this was beyond anything he could have ever imagined. Rei stormed in, pushing past Ami and Naru at that moment and shrieked, her voice so high-pitched that Motoki wondered if she’d been taking lessons from Usagi.
“What the hell is going on here?” she demanded.
“You’re all disturbing our sleep,” Mamoru said coolly, ignoring any implication that the two of them sleeping in the same bed was the anomaly in the room.
“Why are you in Usagi-chan’s bed to begin with?” Naru asked with narrowed eyes.
“And why are her clothes by the door?” Makoto added, punching her palm threateningly. Mamoru smirked.
“I’m in her bed because she wants me to be here,” Mamoru answered. “And I suppose her clothes are by the door because that is where she took them off.”
“Why did she take them off?” Rei asked menacingly and Motoki was suddenly afraid for Mamoru’s life.
“Because I didn’t want them on,” Usagi said, speaking for the first time since they’d woken her. Her voice was soft, but firm, brooking no arguments or further questions.
“Usagi-chan?” Ami asked, looking at her friend for a sign.
“You’re all overreacting. Mamo-chan is right – you’re disturbing our sleep!” she added forcefully. Jaws dropped around the room once more.
Mamoru bent his head until his lips were brushing the girl’s ear and whispered loudly enough for them to hear, “I say we just ignore them, Usako, and go back to sleep – unless you’d rather occupy our time in other ways?” Motoki felt his face flush at the implication Mamoru had just made and watched, astounded, as Usagi playfully slapped Mamoru’s chest and giggled.
“Shh!” she said in a stage whisper. “Sleep now – occupy me later.” Her tone was seductive and Motoki knew that he would never be able to look at sweet, innocent little Usagi the same way again. Without so much as a glance at the five people crowded into the room around them, Mamoru pulled Usagi down with him and settled her comfortably on his chest, his arm wrapped possessively around her waist and his other hand tangling itself into her hair, spread out over them both like a silver blanket. A smirk hovered on the corner of his best friend’s lips as his eyes drifted closed.
Motoki watched as the girls shuffled out of the room, Makoto tugging him along after her and switching off the light. He closed the door on the lovers and dropped, dumbfounded, into the lounger in the living room.
“Mamoru-kun and Usagi-chan?” he asked of the room at large, his voice high and squeaky.
Makoto’s heartfelt, “I need a drink,” was the only answer.
~~~
“Oh my god!” Usagi whispered loudly in the darkness. “Did you see their faces?” She buried her face into Mamoru’s chest to stifle her giggles.
“It was absolutely priceless,” he agreed. “I thought Motoki was going to faint he turned so white.” She felt his frame shake under hers as he tried to hold back his own laughter.
“Rei was the best – I thought she was going to light you on fire right there!” she continued, remembering the look on her friend’s face as the other girl had stared at them. She felt Mamoru’s nod in agreement.
“No kidding,” he muttered darkly. “It’s a good thing we weren’t anywhere near her sacred fire.”
“I thought I was going to burst out laughing when Mako-chan was threatening you,” she said with a very undignified snort.
“I about choked on my tongue – ‘Mamo-chan’ – really?” he asked. “That is so not manly.” She laughed, burying her face into his chest again and ignoring the pleasant scent of his skin.
“It was all I could think of at the moment,” she muttered. “I couldn’t very well call you Baka in front of them right then. Did you really need to go so far as ‘Usako’? That’s the most sickeningly sweet nickname I’ve ever heard,” she muttered distastefully.
“Turnabout is fair play, Odango,” he responded with a chuckle. “This was a brilliant plan, though – I have to hand it to you.”
“Why thank you,” she said gratefully. “How long do you think we should keep it up?”
“I say we give it a week or two before we have a very big, public break-up in front of them all – and then, when they are trying to console us over it, we spring it on them that we were making the whole thing up,” he mused. She nodded, snuggling closer to him.
“Sounds good to me,” she agreed, yawning. “G’night, Mamo-chan.”
“G’night, Usako,” he replied, tightening his arm around her waist as her breathing evened out and she drifted off.
When she woke in the morning, Mamoru was behind her, his left arm and leg pinning her to the bed under him and his face buried in her hair. She pushed him off, none too gently, and climbed over him to see if Makoto was awake, startled that the other bed was empty. She slid down to the floor and crossed to her dresser, pulling out clothes. She knew if she went into the bathroom to change and got caught the game would be over, so she darted a glance over her shoulder at the still-sleeping Mamoru and pulled the nightgown over her head, hurriedly putting her jeans and pink button up on. She slipped her wallet in her back pocket and turned to find that he had rolled over and was lying on his back, his eyes still closed, his bare chest moving up and down with his deep breathing.
She didn’t know why she was so hesitant to touch him now, she’d been wrapped up against that chest intimately all night, even if it was just for show; she shouldn’t be scared to touch him now. She firmed her resolve and reached out, softly pushing against his bare arm, noticing the red and silver of his tattoo for the first time. She bent closer, peering at his arm, wondering why the image of the rose entwined with the crescent moon stirred something in her.
“Wake up, Baka,” she muttered, shoving him hard with a playful smile on her face. His eyes opened and his hand grabbed at her, pulling her down onto his chest.
“Good morning, Odango,” he whispered silkily. Her breath caught in her chest as his arms circled around her, pinning her down. Makoto came into the room then, her eyes going wide and backed out slowly, stammering apologies.
“How did you know?” she asked, looking up at his face. He shrugged.
“I have excellent hearing.” He released her, indicating that she should turn around so that he could dress and she complied willingly. “You can turn around now,” he said after a few minutes.
“You probably want to get home and shower,” she said softly, a little uncertain of her footing this morning. “I’ll walk you out.”
“Let me help you with your hair first,” he said, gesturing towards the bed. She looked down and groaned. Her hair was worse than it had been the night before, given that she’d slept with it loose, something she never did. “I think we left your brush in the living room.” He crossed to the door and walked out, his shirt unbuttoned. She heard muffled voices coming from the doorway, but she refused to concentrate too hard on what was being said. Within moments, he strode back into the room and she sat on the still warm sheets with her back to him.
Mamoru knelt behind her and began to methodically pull the brush through her hair. Makoto, obviously realizing that she was safe since they were both dressed, choose that moment to return and rummage through her drawers, throwing curious looks at Usagi’s reflection, looks that were resolutely ignored. Usagi did notice that it seemed to take Makoto at least twice as long as usual to select her clothing, and she wondered if her roommate had been sent in by the others to spy on them. A smile crossed her face at the thought, and she allowed a small moan to slip past her lips when Mamoru’s hand brushed against the back of her neck when he lifted her hair. She watched in delight as the brunette’s eyes widened in alarm in the mirror and she stood perfectly still, staring at the reflection of the two former enemies engaged in what was obviously an intimate act.
Usagi bit her bottom lip in an effort to stifle her laughter when Mamoru, obviously catching on to the game, kissed her hair when he finished, burying his nose in her neck with an audible groan. Makoto slammed her drawer shut and ran from the room, leaving the door wide open. She felt Mamoru shaking against her back and her own body began to shudder in response, cursing Makoto for leaving the door open so that they couldn’t let loose the laughter that was bubbling towards the surface.
“Her face,” he whispered softly, his voice strained.
“I know,” she answered, trying desperately not to laugh.
“Walk me out?” he asked, standing behind her and offering his hand. She nodded and slid off the bed, taking the hairbrush from him and tossing it on the covers, slipping her hand into his. It seemed that whatever reprieve she’d been issued the night before was over, however, for her fingers flinched away from his as though the skin were burning. She forced past the instinct and curled her fingers tighter, willing them to stay intertwined with his.
“I need to run out for a few things this morning anyway,” she murmured, leading him through the hallway. When they reached the living room, she wasn’t surprised to notice that Motoki, Rei, Ami and Naru were staring at them with blatant shock and curiosity. She looked back at Mamoru and noticed that he still hadn’t buttoned his shirt, and as she acknowledged that he was rather attractive when he was all rumpled, she wondered if perhaps the girls were not so much shocked as in shock. She tugged harder and pulled him into the small entry way, slipping on the same black flats as Mamoru bent down to put on his own shoes. She noticed a set of vivid blue eyes watching stealthily around the corner and gave a wicked grin.
Mamoru straightened and she slid her hands around his waist beneath the open shirt, tensing as she waited for the instinctive cringe and pushed up against him when she realized it wasn’t going to happen, somewhat surprised when he lowered his head in response. He wrapped his arms around her waist briefly before slipping them down to cup her rear, forcing her even closer as his mouth descended on hers. It was – nice – she decided a few timeless moments later. She didn’t really think she’d enjoy it, but it was actually rather pleasant, kissing Mamoru. His body was warm against her bare arms and the firm grip of his hands on her backside was even somewhat arousing.
She broke the kiss with that thought. This was supposed to be a joke – just pretend to get back at their friends, she reminded herself. She was not supposed to actually be attracted to him. He smiled slowly at her, his eyes a deeper blue than she could ever recall having seen them.
“I’ll see you tonight, Usako?” he asked and she nodded. She allowed her smile to break free, knowing that the others would think it was merely a show of happiness over the prospect of seeing her lover again. She watched as he walked through the door and into the elevator, her smile never faltering, even as he winked while the doors closed between them. Why had her body suddenly stopped fearing his? And why was it only relenting when they were forced into intimate situations. Forced? the voice mocked and her eyes narrowed.
Fine, she admitted silently, rolling her eyes. Not forced – but still, even you have to admit it is strange!
Not nearly as strange as you think, Usagi-chan, it said, a distinct hint of laughter in its voice. In fact, if I were you, I’d be more curious about why you react that way at all. It’s obvious your body is not adverse to ‘forced’ intimacy – so why would it be adverse to casual touches?
I thought you disapproved of my plan! she demanded sulkily.
Just because I don’t approve of your plan, doesn’t mean that I don’t approve of Mamoru-san, it whispered softly, seriously.
What do you mean by that? Usagi shouted at her conscience, but, as usual, whenever she most wished for the voice to speak, it was silent. She belatedly realized she was standing in the open doorway of her apartment, her friends staring holes into her back, waiting to grill her, and she suddenly decided that she didn’t feel up to answering their questions. She stepped through the door and closed it quickly, taking the stairs to the first floor of the building and setting off a brisk walk.
Usagi had a single goal in mind when she left her building that morning, and when she exited the building she was looking for an hour later, she felt wonderful. She wanted to see what everyone else thought, so she jogged back to her apartment quickly, by passing the elevators in favor of the stairs and let herself into the apartment. All conversation ceased as she walked into the living room, unsurprised that not only were her roommates there, but Motoki as well.
“Usagi-chan?” Ami asked slowly, staring at her friend with wide eyes. Usagi nodded happily.
“Usagi-chan, what did you do to yourself?” Motoki asked. Naru’s eyes held a hint of tears and Rei, Makoto and Minako were completely silent in shock.
“Usagi-chan – your hair!” Naru wailed, the tears finally falling. Usagi smiled at her friends’ exaggerated reaction.
“Do you like it?” she asked, spinning around so they could get the full view of her silver-blonde hair falling gracefully in waves to her shoulders. “It was getting to be such a hassle as long as it was, and it’s really inconvenient for someone to have to brush it out for me every morning.”
“But Usagi-chan, we normally brush it out at night,” Makoto reminded her gently. Usagi smirked.
“Yes, but obviously that isn’t going to work anymore and Mamo-chan and I have early morning classes,” she grinned.
“So it wasn’t just a one-night stand?” Rei asked slowly and Usagi smirked.
“With a guy like Mamo-chan, there’s no one-anything,” she said in response, noting the way her friends’ faces gaped at the implications. Motoki fell into a dead faint, sliding from the sofa to the floor, but Minako looked at her oddly for a moment and then shook her head slowly as though she was trying to clear it. Usagi bit back a laugh, imagining Mamoru’s face when she told him about this scene. He was going to love it.
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