The Exiles

By: Starsea

Rating: PG-13


Chapter Six: Shamming Sweetness

March is the month of expectation,
The things we do not know,
The Persons of prognostication
Are coming now...

Emily Dickinson, “XLVIII”


March was a nowhere month, that was how Mamoru always thought of it. 
It wasn’t winter and it wasn’t spring. Although the trees were in 
bud, they hadn’t really begun to blossom just yet. There were some 
hints of green but nothing particularly spectacular, apart from the 
daffodils towards the end and that was after the vernal equinox. 
Since he’d come back from Harvard in the middle of the Japanese 
school year, there had been a long wait to properly begin his 
studies again. Everyone else on his course had been busy studying 
and preparing for exams, while he’d been filling in at the hospital 
where Ami’s mother worked, waiting for his student life to start 
again.

Of course, things were different now. He had his men back and he 
needed to get to know them. Ken went to a totally different 
university out in the suburbs, but Mamoru had lived with him for 
a whole year. He had three other men to get to know; they all went 
to the same university, but that didn’t really mean much. That meant 
that when he wasn’t working (or with Usagi), he was with Xavier, 
Isamu or Takehiko.

Since Takehiko was a law student, his timetable was almost as 
intense as Mamoru’s: this meant that on weekdays they only caught 
glimpses of each other in the library or the university restaurant. 
If Mamoru saw Takehiko in the library, he was nearly always 
surrounded by stacks of folders and books – sometimes, he even had 
plastic folders of old parchment from the Edo Period. He would 
usually be writing something down, his eyes narrowed, an expression 
of intense concentration on his face. Despite this, Takehiko always 
seemed to know when Mamoru was looking at him, for he would lift his 
head, meet Mamoru’s eyes and nod. Mamoru was surprised at how good 
that simple acknowledgement made him feel. If it was the restaurant, 
Takehiko would be sitting at a table with some other law students, 
of the group but apart from it. The law students had stopped talking 
the first time Mamoru came and sat down.

“Busy day?” Takehiko enquired, ignoring the silence.

“You could say that,” Mamoru replied.

“You know this guy, Kitano-kun?” asked one of the law students.

“If I didn’t know him, I wouldn’t be talking to him,” Takehiko said 
dryly. “Is there a problem, Higashi-kun?”

Higashi reddened. “No, no problem.” 

From then on, Mamoru was an accepted part of the group. He and 
Takehiko did not talk much while they were eating, but Mamoru felt 
that progress was being made in some small way. After all, it was 
obvious from the group’s reaction that being allowed to eat at the 
table was some kind of honour.

Isamu and Xavier had lighter timetables and were far more available. 
They often invited Mamoru to come and hear the university orchestra 
practices. Isamu played the piano and Xavier was in the woodwind 
section, leading the flutes. 

During the exam period, however, orchestra practices were cancelled, 
and for a while all four of his men disappeared off the radar. 
Mamoru told himself that this was normal, but given past history, he 
couldn’t help feeling a little uneasy; so he was secretly relieved 
to receive an an e-mail from Xavier about having a late lunch 
together after Isamu’s final Classics exam. If only hospitals were 
run on exam timetables: he was ten minutes late when he came out of 
the sliding doors and very grateful the hospital was only five 
minutes from the station. He could see Isamu and Xavier outside the 
front gate, waiting for him.

“So sorry to keep you waiting,” he apologised as he ran up to them, 
and bent over, panting slightly.

Isamu put a hand on his back. “You didn’t have to run, you know.” 
He smiled as Mamoru straightened.

“I know, but-”

“So don’t do it,” Isamu finished. 

“You don’t need to rush for us, it’s the other way around,” Xavier 
pointed out gently. “You must be tired after such a long shift.”

Mamoru shrugged, straightening. “Not that tired; just hungry. Is it 
far to your parents’ house?” he added as they began to walk to the 
station.

“Fifteen minutes,” Isamu said. “We get off at Azabu-Juuban, same as 
you.” He paused to get out his train pass, while Xavier slipped 
through the barrier first. 

A group of fresher girls around the kiosk glanced up and then looked 
away, whispering amongst themselves. Mamoru saw Xavier glance at 
them with detached interest. The girls all nudged each other, 
blushing.

“Ah, first years,” Isamu said with a slight grin, having watched 
this with amusement. “Easy pickings there, if you want them.”

“Which I don’t,” Xavier answered, glancing up at the announcement 
screen for the time of the next train. “I’m not interested in easy 
pickings and neither are you, however hard you try to pretend 
otherwise.”

Mamoru took this as a totally innocent remark, so he was a little 
surprised to see Isamu turn away impatiently, his shoulders tensing. 
“God, you’re like a dog with a bone, you won’t shut up-!”

“I won’t shut up until you tell her you’re not serious,” said 
Xavier, his voice heavy. “I don’t care how many battles she’s 
fought, she’s still a young girl and if you take advantage of that 
innocence, you’ll wreck any chance you’ve got with Hino-san.”

“I don’t *have* a chance,” Isamu said, his face blank and hard.

Mamoru wanted to stop and yell for a time out. He couldn’t quite 
believe what he was hearing. Isamu was interested Rei and not 
Minako? Why was he the last person to know this? Shock made it 
difficult for him to speak and so the argument carried on.

“This coming from the man who told me that you always have to try, 
no matter what,” Xavier commented. “You don’t *know*. Just like you 
don’t *know* that Aino-san knows this is temporary.”

“Actually, I do. I know her, far better than you, so just drop the 
subject.”

“No.” Xavier’s jaw was set, and the resemblance to his cousin 
suddenly seemed very obvious. But unlike Isamu, he did not look 
angry: he looked sad, the very personification of ‘this hurts me 
more than it hurts you’, and it wasn’t difficult to believe that.

“If you’re so worried about Minako-san, why don’t *you* tell her?” 
Mamoru enquired, a little reluctant to get in the middle of this 
argument, but feeling he should say something.

“Because it should be coming from *him*!” Xavier said, finally 
turning his gaze away from Isamu. “He’s the one who’s going out with 
her! But he doesn’t say anything. He carries on, letting her think 
this might work out, storing up trouble with Hino-san, when that’s 
the last thing he should be doing-”

“Enough!” The word crackled in the air and there was a long scream 
as the train came around the bend. Isamu’s shoulders were rigid with 
anger, with the effort to hold that anger in. “You say another word 
and I’ll make you regret it, cousin or no cousin,” he said quietly.

“Another word about what, exactly?” Xavier demanded. “Aino-san? 
Hino-san? The fact Mamoru-kun doesn’t even know what’s going on?”

“Stop,” Mamoru said quietly, and to his inner surprise, they both 
did. “I have a good idea of what’s going on, but fighting about it 
isn’t the answer.” It was typical, he thought, that Xavier should be 
the one to look ashamed, even though he wasn’t the one in the wrong. 
“Now,” he went on, “we’re going back to your house and we’re going 
to have lunch. How was your exam, Isamu-kun?”

Isamu stared at him for a moment, then he nodded. “Good. Not too 
easy. What about you? Any interesting cases to report?”

Mamoru took the baton and ran with it. For the rest of the journey, 
they all kept up an easy conversation about the hospital and his 
various duties. Nothing was said about Rei or Minako, but Mamoru 
could see that Xavier hadn’t given up on the situation. That was 
unusual in itself: Xavier was the peacemaker. Why was he so upset 
about this? Had Isamu actually done anything? Mamoru sighed 
inwardly. The last thing he needed was his guard playing havoc with 
the girls. 

They got off at Azabu-Juuban, walked over the footbridge and through 
the ticket machines. Isamu led the way, Mamoru and Xavier following 
him. Mamoru glanced at Xavier out of the corner of his eye. Maybe it 
was safe enough. After all, Xavier was one of his guards. He reached 
out and gently grasped Xavier’s arm above the elbow, making sure to 
block the information which would immediately hit him. Xavier 
blinked rapidly, but continued walking.

/What is it?/ he said.

/I need you to tell me what’s going on between Minako-chan and 
Isamu-kun./ Mamoru glanced at Isamu for a moment. /Has he done 
something... anything?/

/Not as far as I know./ He could feel Xavier’s frustration now, like 
a leaden blanket on his mind. /I’m not sure *what* is going on 
between them. That’s okay, because I’m not in the relationship; 
however, I don’t think Aino-san is sure, either, and that is what 
worries me. She should know. Isamu should make sure she knows he’s 
not serious. Otherwise, he’s leading her on and he’ll only hurt her. 
And that will just hurt him./

/You worry too much,/ Mamoru told him, realising as he did so that 
he was repeating what other people had said to him.

/Maybe, but not in this case; in this case, I think I’m worrying 
just right,/ Xavier replied.

They both laughed suddenly, out loud. Isamu turned around, surprised 
and Mamoru quickly let go. Isamu looked at him for a moment, then 
turned around and walked on. /That must have been a very private 
joke. You could just talk to me straight out, but oh no, it’s better 
to go behind my back. Fine. Two can play at that game./ “We’re 
nearly there,” he said out loud.

They had reached a pair of gates, tall and straight and black, 
piercing the sky. There was a number pad on the wall, silver buttons 
gleaming. Isamu stood in front of it for a moment, pressing in the 
code, then the gates gradually swung back and they all walked 
through. Mamoru swallowed. The Minami family house was set back from 
the road, grass spread out before it like a mantle. It was white and 
proud, and for a strange moment, Mamoru was reminded of Boston and 
clap-board buildings. Perhaps it was the colour, or the large 
windows which gazed at him so clearly, promising light and space. 
“Nice,” he said, embarrassed by the word yet unable to think of 
anything else.

“It’s not bad,” Isamu agreed lazily, moving forward and unlocking 
the front door with one twist of his key.

Mamoru followed him into the warmth of the entrance hall, breathing 
in the smell of beeswax and pot pourri. There was a clock ticking 
somewhere, a quiet pulse that only emphasised the silence 
surrounding it.

“Tadaima!” Isamu and Xavier chorused, taking off their coats and 
hanging them on hooks; their names were written above them on wooden 
plaques with calligraphic swirls. “You can hang your coat and 
satchel up here, Mamoru-kun, nobody will touch them,” Xavier added 
with a smile.

Mamoru nodded and quickly took his coat off, taking a hook that was 
marked ‘Guest’ in equally beautiful symbols. He’d noticed that 
everything in the hall was faintly pink; now he realised that this 
was because the landing window was filled with a blossoming cherry 
tree, colouring the light which came through it. 

“Okarinasai.”

He turned and saw a woman emerge from the doorway on the left. She 
was above average height and had dark brown hair pulled back into a 
low ponytail at the nape of her neck, emphasising the familiar 
cheekbones and chin. Her smile was calm and welcoming. Mamoru smiled 
back, feeling himself relax.

“Kaa-san, this is Chiba Mamoru; Mamoru-kun, this is our mother, 
Minami Yumi,” Isamu said proudly.

Mamoru bowed deeply. “It’s an honour to meet you, Minami-san; thank 
you for having me.”

“I’m very pleased to meet you at last, Mamoru-kun,” she said, 
walking forward. “Isamu and Xavier have been talking about you for a 
while, they made us very curious.”

“Ah... really?” Mamoru glanced at Isamu, wondering what his friends 
had said, but Isamu didn’t meet his gaze. “I hope you don’t have the 
wrong impression.”

“You’re very welcome,” Yumi said, as if she could read his mind. 
Then she turned and kissed Isamu on the cheek, looking at her 
son closely. “How did your exam go?”

“I finished early.”

She raised one eyebrow, her face almost mirroring his. “That’s nice, 
but how did it go?”

Isamu’s lips twitched as he fought a smile. “Fine.”

Yumi nodded, then turned to Xavier. Mamoru saw her expression 
change, softening. “What about you?” she asked, putting a hand on 
his arm just as Mamoru had done. “Taking care of yourself?” Her 
voice was tender but something hovered beneath the sweetness, an 
urgency. Xavier gave her a small smile.

“Isa keeps an eye on me, Yumi-mama.”

“That’s good,” she said softly and turned back to Mamoru without 
moving her hand. “Lunch is nearly ready, if you’d like to sit down.”

Mamoru smiled and nodded. He didn’t have much experience with 
mothers. Ikuko was so warm and expansive that it was impossible to 
feel awkward around her, but Yumi was different. She belonged to 
Isamu and Xavier and she made him feel shy in some way. 

They walked down a corridor lined with landscape paintings and 
turned right into the dining room, well lit by folding doors that 
looked onto a garden. One of them was half open, letting in the 
sweet smell of sakura. The table was covered with a white linen 
cloth and set for three.

“Sit down and I’ll bring the rice in,” said Yumi with a smile, and 
she glided out of the room.

Xavier and Isamu sat down and broke their chopsticks. Mamoru 
followed their lead, drawing up his chair. “What exactly did you say 
about me?” he said, glancing up at Isamu.

“Nothing bad!” he replied, laughing. “What are you afraid of?”

“You warned me you’re a horrible person, I’m just being suitably 
wary,” Mamoru retorted.

“I’m glad to see you paid attention, but I’m not horrible to my 
friends,” Isamu replied with a little smile.

“That depends on your definition of ‘horrible’,” Xavier remarked. 
“You’re pretty nasty to Hi-kun.”
 
Isamu’s features tightened for a moment but his voice remained 
light. “Mamoru-kun isn’t Hi-kun,” he said. “I’m not going to treat 
them in the same way, am I?”

“That’s a relief,” Xavier muttered.

Isamu’s eyes narrowed, but Yumi came back through the door with a 
steaming bowl of saffron rice. Mamoru could feel his mouth water. 
“That smells delicious,” he said, hoping that he didn’t look too 
starved.

Yumi laughed slightly and put the bowl in the centre of the table. 
“Please, dig in; I’ll just bring the tempura through.”

Xavier’s eyes lit up. “You cooked tempura!”

“Yes, I did, and there’s some sushi for you, Isamu, before you 
complain.”

Isamu shut his mouth. “I wasn’t going to say anything,” he said with 
an innocent tone.

Yumi looked at him for a moment, the corners of her mouth curling. 
“No, of course you weren’t.” She turned and left the room.

Mamoru scooped some rice into his bowl, ignoring the atmosphere 
between Xavier and Isamu. It was obvious that Xavier had the upper 
hand here and Mamoru wasn’t about to interfere. Yumi came back in 
before any more words could be exchanged and proceeded to gently 
probe him about his degree, his time at Harvard, his hobbies and his 
background.

“Kaa-san wants to know if you’ll be available to work on her 
campaigns,” Isamu put in after one question.

“Campaigns?” Mamoru repeated.

“Don’t call them that, Isa, you make me sound like a politician,” 
Yumi said with a sigh, sipping her green tea.

“Well, they’re politically motivated, they will have political 
results; you’re just clever enough not to get involved in the actual 
law-making,” Isamu added with a small grin.

“You’re such a flatterer,” his mother said dryly.

“Yumi-mama’s involved with Amnesty International,” Xavier explained. 
“She campaigns for human rights.”

Mamoru blinked and put down his chopsticks. “Really?”

Yumi flicked the implications away with her hand. “I’m not as active 
as I used to be: I was involved in political campaigning before I 
was married, but now I’m more of a fund-raiser.”

Isamu shook his head. “Don’t let her fool you; she used to take me 
and Xavier to loads of meetings. We learnt more there than we did in 
school. We weren’t exactly popular for what we said,” he added with 
a small laugh.

“Isamu used to tell everyone exactly who had made their clothes and 
what the factory workers had gone through,” Xavier said, smiling.

“He probably still could, if he tried,” Yumi remarked, glancing at 
her son with such pride that Mamoru felt a small ache in his heart.

Isamu met her eyes for a moment, then picked up his next piece of 
fish. “I thought it was important for them to know.”

“It is,” Mamoru said with a frown. “If I get the opportunity, I want 
to join that association – you might know it, Yumi-san, Médécins 
Sans Frontières?”

“Oh yes, I know some people on the Japanese organising committee,” 
Yumi agreed. “But Isamu said you had a fiancée, Mamoru-kun, I didn’t 
think you’d want to leave her again so soon. Especially for such 
dangerous destinations.”

“Usako would understand,” Mamoru said quietly. “She’s very... 
caring. She wants to make the world a better place.”

Yumi smiled gently. “Of course she does, or you wouldn’t be 
together. You’re training to be a doctor,” she said at Mamoru’s 
surprised look, “you would need someone who understands that desire 
to help people. Someone who *likes* people, I should say. 
Otherwise... well, it wouldn’t be a happy partnership.”

“Yes...” Mamoru smiled at her, surprised and grateful. He’d often 
wondered how to put this similarity between them into words for 
people who were surprised at his relationship with Usagi, Asanuma 
being a prime example. /Usako likes people and wants to help them. 
So do I./

“Is she going to be a doctor as well? Or a nurse?” Yumi enquired.

Mamoru almost choked. Isamu reached over and patted his back 
discreetly, allowing him to swallow and recover. “Um, no... she 
hasn’t really decided what she wants to do.”

“Oh well, she has plenty of time; I didn’t realise what I wanted to 
do until I was in my thirties; that’s when I got involved with 
Amnesty. I do envy people who are always sure of what they’re going 
to do when they grow up, I never had that certainty.”

“You were sure you were going to marry Dad,” Isamu pointed out.

“Yes, and that was the only thing I was sure about!” Yumi sighed. 
“But the only reason I was sure about marrying him was because he 
agreed I could have a career on the side; everyone thought he was 
crazy, of course.”

“Now you know where I get it from,” Isamu said, winking sideways at 
Mamoru.

Yumi made a little ‘hmph’ as she sipped her tea again. “I’m sure 
Mamoru-kun knows that your craziness is a complete act; you have 
your feet firmly on the ground, you just like to keep people 
guessing; I hope you do know that,” she added, shooting Mamoru a 
glance over the rim of her teacup that reminded him of Isamu.

“I’ve never thought he’s crazy,” he assured her.

“Of course not; you’re a sensible boy or they wouldn’t have brought 
you home to meet me.” Yumi put her cup down, leaving Mamoru basking 
in this compliment. “Apparently I have this reputation of scaring 
people off. I don’t know why. It’s not my fault that most people are 
silly.”

This sentence reminded Mamoru of Rei so much that he thought it 
wiser not to look at Isamu. Fortunately, he was saved from making 
any reply by the front door opening and a young girl’s voice calling 
out, “Tadaima!”

“Ah, Angela’s home.” Yumi stood up. “I’ll tell her you’re eating, 
Mamoru-kun, but she might come in here, anyway. Don’t worry, she’s 
harmless.” And having delivered this rather unsettling message, she 
left the room.

Mamoru looked at his friends. “Angela?”

“Angela’s my sister; didn’t I say?” asked Isamu, blinking. 

Mamoru shook his head.

“Oh well, now you know.”

“What did she mean by ‘harmless’?” Mamoru asked.

Xavier swallowed his mouthful. “Nami-chan has a tendency to fall in 
love with our friends, so she can be extremely attentive. But don’t 
worry, Mamoru-kun, she’s in love with someone else at the moment, so 
you should be safe.”

Isamu sat bolt upright. “She’s in love?!” he repeated. “When did 
this happen? Who is it? Why wasn’t I told?”

Xavier blinked innocently, doing it far better than his cousin. 
“Because I made a promise, Isamu. And I can’t betray a young girl’s 
secrets.”

“Don’t give me that sentimental crap, she’s my sister and I need to 
know who she’s hanging round with,” Isamu retorted.

“Nobody dangerous, so I wouldn’t worry,” Xavier said, drinking the 
last of his water.

“*You* never worry about anything,” Isamu retorted.

“That’s why he’s so much more likeable!” A blue blur ran into the 
dining room and threw her arms around Xavier. “Why didn’t you *tell* 
me you were coming home?”

Xavier stroked the black head. “Because it wasn’t definite.”

“Because we don’t need to let you know about our every single move?” 
Isamu added.

She looked up, glaring at him. “Oh, but you need to know about 
*mine*?”

“Of course,” Isamu said, grinning at her. “It’s a big brother’s 
right to veto anything and everything his little sister does. 
Mamoru-kun, this is my sister, Angela,” he added casually. “Angela, 
this is my friend, Chiba Mamoru.”

“And mine,” Xavier added, “so be nice.”

Blue eyes turned to look at Mamoru, the same shade as Isamu’s, the 
same intensity. He almost moved back. “It’s nice to meet you, 
Angela-san,” he said with a smile.

Angela didn’t reply for a moment. She simply looked at him. Her hair 
was black with a blue tinge, almost like Ami’s but darker, and it 
was long, pulled back by two small plaits that were tied at the top 
with blue ribbons. The ribbons and the uniform were girlish, but the 
look in Angela’s eyes was not. When she spoke, her voice was rather 
low.

“Are you the Mamoru-san who shared a room with Ken-san at Harvard?” 
she asked.

Mamoru nodded. Angela smiled, her wariness vanishing, the movement 
melting all the hard lines of her face. “Ken-san told me about you! 
He said that you were really clever and you were studying to be a 
doctor and he told me that you were the only person who stopped him 
from running away.”

“Um...” Mamoru resisted the urge to look away in embarrassment. 
“Well, I didn’t know that, Angela-san. But I am studying to be a 
doctor, yes.”

“He’s at the same university as us, but on a different campus,” 
Xavier added.

“How come you haven’t brought him home before?” Angela asked, 
looking from him to Isamu.

Isamu sighed. “Do *you* know every student in your year?”

“No!”

“Well, we have even more students in our year than you do, and he’s 
on Shinomachi campus, where the hospital is, and we only just met 
him in January. And *that’s* why we haven’t brought him home 
before.” He propped his chin on his fist and looked at her. 
“Satisfied?”

Angela pouted. “Are you going to bring him home more often?”
“If you promise to be nice,” Isamu answered, smiling as she glared 
with a fierceness that reminded Mamoru of Chibiusa.

“I’m nice to everybody!”

“I beg to differ.”

“Well, maybe if you were nicer to *me*-!”

“Children,” said Yumi from the doorway, “not in front of the guest. 
Angela, you’ve seen Mamoru-kun, now it’s time to do your homework.”

“Okaa-san-!” 
 
“Or you can forget about watching that new anime.” Yumi shrugged. 
“Your choice.”

Mamoru watched Angela’s hands curl into fists. For a moment, he 
thought she was going to fight. Then her shoulders dropped and she 
pulled away from Xavier. “Coming.” As she came to the door, she 
glanced back again. “I will see you again, won’t I, Mamoru-san?”

“You can count on it,” Mamoru assured her. “Now I’m here, I’m not 
going away.”

Angela grinned, then turned around and left.

“Well!” Xavier said, smiling. “She likes you.”

“Let us give thanks for small blessings,” Isamu intoned and they all 
started laughing.

They ate the rest of their lunch with that laughter still there, 
giving their conversation a pleasant flavour. Angela had somehow 
released the tension, Mamoru saw that. Isamu and Xavier were back to 
their usual selves, their silent link re-established and humming 
with harmony. But he hadn’t forgotten. He needed to know what was 
going on between Isamu and Minako, and he would find out.

For now though, he would eat and enjoy the peace. He was beginning 
to realise that where Isamu was concerned, peace was a precious 
commodity.

* * *

There was peace of a different kind in the Crown Arcade. Makoto was 
playing the Sailor V game, while Ami did her trigonometry, Usagi 
struggled with her English, and Minako tried to decide which shoujo 
magazine she’d read first. There was “Nakayoshi”, with her favourite 
CLAMP story, but she was also tempted by “Princess” and the latest 
“Asuka”.

“You’re quiet, Minako-chan,” Ami observed. “Something wrong?”

“No. Yes.” Minako grabbed “Asuka” and opened it. “Don’t want to talk 
about it.”

“Is it something to do with Isamu-san?” Usagi asked, looking up.

Minako laughed, flipping the pages. “Why would something be wrong 
with Isamu-san?”

“Because you’ve stopped talking about him,” Usagi pointed out.

Minako’s laugh cut off abruptly. “Well, I don’t want to bore you 
about how wonderful he is,” she said lightly.

“You never worried about that before,” Ami said. Minako glanced at 
her, but Ami’s look took the edge off the words. It was obvious that 
she was concerned as well.

“If he’s not treating you right,” Usagi began.

“*That* is not the problem,” Minako interrupted. She put down the 
magazine and sighed. “He’s very nice. He takes me for dinner, and 
I’m welcome to come to his flat anytime, and we have loads of 
discussions about music and art and acting... just because he’s a 
musician, doesn’t mean that he has no idea about acting,” she added, 
noticing the looks of surprise.

“It all sounds healthy to me,” Ami remarked.

Minako snorted. “Yeah... for a *friendship*. That’s what I mean. He 
treats me so honourably that I might as well be his sister. I don’t 
get it! When we flirt, there’s nothing he won’t say, but when I try 
and make a move...”

“He doesn’t make any moves?” Ami questioned.

Minako shook her head, her mouth turning down. “Like I said. I mean, 
I’ve heard of friends with benefits... but I’m not even getting any 
benefits here!”

Ami went pink and Usagi put her hand over her mouth, giggling. 
Minako grinned for a moment, and then sighed.

“If you’re unhappy, you should talk to him,” Usagi said. “I mean, 
you said you talk about everything, so it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“I know, but...”

“YES! FINALLY!”

Makoto thrust herself back from the console. “I swear I’m getting 
worse!” she exclaimed, coming back. “I only just beat that last 
boss!” She made a face.

“The game doesn’t stay the same, Mako-chan. Artemis changes it to 
keep up with our skills, so he’s just making sure you’re 
challenged,” Minako reassured her.

“Oh... well, I suppose it’s okay then, but that was *hard*,” Makoto 
insisted. “I don’t want it changed for quite a while, Minako-chan. 
What were you looking so glum about?”

“Isamu-san’s being too nice to her,” Usagi explained.
“Too nice?” Makoto repeated. “How do you mean?”

“He’s acting like he’s my friend, not my boyfriend,” Minako 
elaborated.

Makoto smiled a little, sad and wise. “Maybe that’s just the way 
your relationship is meant to be, Minako-chan.”

“No, it isn’t!” Minako exclaimed, making them all jump. “We’re... 
we’re...”

Makoto took one of her hands, squeezing it. “If you and Minami-san 
get on well as friends, you should be happy, Minako-chan. It’s rare 
for a man and a woman to have a good platonic relationship.”

“But I don’t want a platonic relationship,” Minako whined. “I want a 
boyfriend!”

“We know, Minako-chan, but maybe Isamu-san just isn’t that 
boyfriend,” Usagi said softly.

Minako bit her lip. Ami closed her trigonometry textbook.

“Minako-chan, I know that you don’t want to rock the boat, but 
talking to us isn’t going to change things. What you need to do is 
talk to him. At least you communicate well. Some couples would be 
very envious of you.”

“But what if... what if he feels the same way? I mean, that he just 
wants to be friends?” Minako whispered, gazing down at her magazine 
so that nobody would see the tears in her eyes.

“Then you’ve gained a friend and you won’t be spending any more time 
worrying about why he doesn’t treat you like a girlfriend,” Usagi 
said, giving her a gentle smile.

Minako sniffed. “All right... but don’t tell Rei-chan. I don’t want 
her saying ‘I told you so’.”

“Rei-chan isn’t the type to say that, Minako-chan, and you know it,” 
Mako retorted, getting out her homework with a sigh.

“She would if it’s Isamu-san,” Minako replied.

The others paused at this, then nodded. “She certainly tends to get 
worked up when he’s around,” Ami commented.

“But the point is that he’s treated you very nicely, Minako-chan, he 
hasn’t tried to hurt you in any way, so he’s *not* evil,” Usagi said 
firmly.

“I’d appreciate it if he *was* a little evil,” Minako muttered.

“You don’t mean that,” Ami exclaimed.

“Maybe I do!”

“Maybe you do what?”

They all jumped. Motoki was wiping down a table nearby, staring at 
them curiously. Minako was the first to recover.

“Oh, boyfriend trouble,” she said, waving a hand with a charming 
smile. “Nothing you’d want to know about; so how are you, Motoki-
onii-san?”

“Not bad...” Motoki glanced at the door.

“Expecting somebody?” Ami asked curiously.

“Ah, this guy applied for the opening we’ve got on Wednesday and 
Thursday afternoons now that Daichi-kun’s gone. He should be coming 
along any time now.”

“That’s nice,” Mako said, smiling. “What’s his name?”

“Oh... it’s an English one. I think he’s half American or Canadian 
or something – here he is!” Motoki smiled in relief.

The girls turned as the door to the café-arcade opened with the 
familiar beeping sound and two tall young men stepped through, 
bending so that they didn’t bump into the doorframe. The first one 
straightened with a familiar, dimpled smile.

“Hey, Furuhata-san. Am I late?”

Motoki shook his head. “Not at all. You’re right on time.”

“Ken-san?!” the girls exclaimed.

Ken turned his head and blinked. “Well, hey,” he said. “Long time, 
no see. How are you all?”

“You’re... going to be working here?” Makoto asked.

“That depends on Furuhata-san, but hopefully,” Ken replied, nodding. 
“You girls come here often?”

“It’s our favourite place to hang out,” Usagi explained, wondering 
exactly why Ken had picked here.

“No kidding!” Ken looked genuinely surprised. “Small world, isn’t 
it, Hi-kun?”

It was only then that Makoto and Ami noticed the other man, standing 
a little behind Ken. He was slightly taller than his friend, leaner, 
with pale skin, and shoulder-length dark hair that reminded Ami of 
the knights in pre-Raphelite paintings. He looked like someone who 
would listen to you.

“The world is smaller than we think,” he said, his mouth turning 
upwards slightly.

“Takehiko-san!” Usagi beckoned him and he walked over, almost 
gliding. When he stood before the table, he seemed even taller, 
almost looming over them.

“Hello, Usagi-san,” he said, properly smiling this time. His eyes 
moved to Minako, who seemed frozen. “Minako-san.” 

“Girls, this is Kitano Takehiko-san,” Usagi said, smiling. 
“Takehiko-san, these are my other friends, Ami-chan and Mako-chan.”

Takehiko bowed politely, wondering what their proper names were. 
“Pleased to meet you both,” he said, playing it safe.

Makoto drew a breath. As someone who’d gone through loss early in 
her life, she recognised the look in Takehiko’s eyes and the lines 
around his mouth. She’d seen it in Mamoru and she saw it in this man 
as well. When their eyes met, she closed her mouth. She knew that 
he’d seen, that he understood, and that she didn’t have to say a 
thing.

“You’ve already met Minako-chan?” Ami asked.

“Yes... we met when she and Isamu-kun went on their first date.” 
Takehiko looked at Minako again. Minako was not meeting his gaze. In 
fact, she was pointedly staring at her magazine as if he were 
invisible.

“You never told us that,” Makoto said, turning to look at her.

“Well, I didn’t think it was important,” Minako replied, not moving 
her eyes from the page.

Motoki had taken Ken behind the bar and was talking to him, 
gesturing with his hands. Ken was nodding, a look of concentration 
on his face. Usagi smiled. She had a feeling that Ken didn’t need to 
worry about the job. That reminded her... She turned back to 
Takehiko.

“Why is Ken-san coming to work here?” she asked.

Takehiko’s lips twitched as if he wanted to laugh. “Ah... well, you 
remember when he said that he’d finally won a game?”

Usagi nodded.

“Ken-kun usually plays against Xavier-kun. But Xavier-kun always 
wins. So, when Ken-kun saw the advert for part-time help in here, he 
thought he could improve his gaming skills.” Even though his voice 
was quite calm, Takehiko’s eyes were full of amusement.

“But... he has to work here, not play games,” Makoto pointed out, 
not quite so successful in suppressing her laughter.

“Yes, I did point that out to him.”

“What did he say?” Ami asked curiously.

“In his own words, ‘Don’t worry, I’ll manage’.”

Usagi and Makoto cracked up. Ami covered her mouth, trying hard not 
to laugh. Minako turned the page of her magazine, wondering why the 
hell Takehiko had to show up with that voice and that smile and 
those eyes just when she was feeling so unsure.

“Will he manage, do you think?” Makoto asked, her voice still 
wavering with laughter.

“Oh, I don’t doubt it,” Takehiko assured her, with a small smile. 
“Ken-kun is very good at making time for anything he regards as 
important.”

“Do you like to play computer games, Takehiko-san?” Usagi enquired. 
He seemed to know something about them, yet she couldn’t see 
Takehiko sitting in front of a console. He seemed too serious for 
that.

“Depends on the type of game. I like strategy games... and RPGs. 
Especially the Final Fantasy series,” he added with a smile.

“Do you know ‘Myst’?” Ami asked.

“Mm, one of my favourites, although Xavier-kun’s the expert. It can 
get a little too mysterious for me. I just play to take my mind off 
things. Platformers are good for that.” Takehiko glanced around, 
suddenly noticing the pink box with the familiar masked figure. “Is 
that Sailor V?”

“You know about her?” Usagi asked, glancing at Minako. She could see 
Minako’s cheeks go pink, which only made her more curious.

“Isa-kun’s sister was a big fan of Sailor V. But then she 
disappeared... Angela-chan was so upset. I always wondered what 
happened to her.”

“Maybe she just got bored of crime fighting,” Minako said abruptly, 
feeling the blood pound in her head.

Takehiko turned his head, looking at her. “Pretty sudden,” he 
remarked. “Even if she got bored of the fighting, which I doubt, 
what about the press attention and her fans? She seemed to enjoy 
that.”

“How would you know?” Minako demanded, finally looking at him. “I 
thought Isamu-san’s little sister was the fan, not you.”

“She was popular with all age groups,” Takehiko answered, watching 
her. “A lot of the boys in my class wanted to meet her.”

“Including you?” Minako asked, her eyes narrowing.

“Who wouldn’t want to meet a superhero with legs like that?” He 
looked at her with an ironic smile, his eyes suddenly dark. Minako 
felt her breath catch. She waivered between getting angry and 
flinging herself at him, then decided to be cool.

“Well,” she said, turning the page, “since I know her very well, I 
can tell you that – AARGH!” Pain shot up her leg as a foot connected 
with her calf. Minako bent down, gasping.

Usagi looked at Takehiko, smiling brightly. “She gets cramps, you 
see,” she explained, ignoring Minako’s glare. “Volleyball.”

He nodded, as if he hadn’t just seen her kick Minako’s leg. “I hope 
it gets better soon,” he said, and then sat down at the Sailor V 
game.

The girls froze. “You’re going to play?” Makoto asked.

“Might as well, Ken-kun won’t be finished for a while,” Takehiko 
answered, taking out some coins and pushing them in.

“It doesn’t give prizes anymore,” Ami warned him.

“That’s all right. I don’t play for prizes.” 

“Well, while you do that, we need to have a little chat, don’t we, 
girls?” Usagi said, jerking her head towards the toilets.

Ami and Makoto immediately stood up. “Yes, girl talk, very 
important,” Ami agreed.

“Come on, Minako-chan, you don’t want to miss the *chat*,” Makoto 
said, grabbing Minako’s arm and almost dragging her out of the 
booth.

“God, what is it with you people, first I’m kicked, now I’m being 
manhandled-!”

The toilet door banged behind them. Takehiko glanced at it for a 
moment, allowed himself a chuckle under his breath, then began to 
play the game.

“What the hell was that for?” Minako snapped, rubbing her leg.

“Because I thought throwing something at you would be a bit too 
obvious,” Usagi said, casting an anxious glance at the door. “What 
were you thinking, Minako-chan?”

There was a pause. Minako continued to rub her leg, not looking at 
them. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said airily. “I 
was perfectly normal.”

“Minako-chan, that was not normal, even for you,” Makoto retorted, 
folding her arms. “You were all smiles with Motoki-onii-san, then 
Kitano-san walks in and you start acting like... like Rei-chan! 
All prickly and aggressive. You were really rude out there!”

“You’re one to talk about being rude,” Minako retorted, looking up 
at her.

Makoto raised both eyebrows. “Well, excuse me...”

“Mako-chan’s right,” said Ami, watching Minako closely. “You were 
rude. You didn’t tell us that you’d met him before, you wouldn’t 
even look at him when he said ‘hello’, and then you went and 
attacked him like that. Why? What’s he done?”

“Oh, only tried to warn me off Isamu-san...”

“What?” Usagi said, staring at her. “He did what?”

“Yeah. He told me that Isamu-san wasn’t serious about me, that he 
could be cruel and that I should be careful. Because he was 
‘worried’.” Minako straightened and turned to the mirror, finger-
combing her hair. “I mean, isn’t that the most pathetic excuse 
you’ve ever heard? He wouldn’t even admit he was jealous. I don’t 
appreciate it when people try to sabotage my relationships, it’s bad 
enough when Artemis sticks his paddle in, let alone a complete 
stranger...” She laughed for a moment, then stopped as she saw her 
friends’ expressions in the mirror. They were not laughing.

“If he’s Minami-san’s friend, he must know Minami-san very well. I 
don’t think he’d say those things unless he was genuinely concerned, 
Minako-chan,” Ami said slowly.

Minako whirled round. “You’re taking *his* side?!”

“No, she’s just saying that he might have a point; especially given 
what you just told us about Minami-san,” Makoto added. “I mean, he’s 
not been cruel, but he certainly hasn’t acted like a serious 
boyfriend, has he? Besides, if Kitano-san was jealous, I think he 
would have gone about warning you in a different way, Minako-chan. 
Did he say anything about how *he* felt?”

Minako folded her arms, staring at the floor. “Just that he was 
worried.”

Makoto shrugged, folding her arms. “Well, he’s allowed to be 
worried.”

“Why do you think he was lying?” Usagi asked. “Did Isamu-san say 
something?”

“I didn’t tell him what Kitano-san said, are you kidding me? The 
last thing I wanted to do was cause a rift,” Minako said angrily.

“But *he’s* the one who decided to warn you,” Ami pointed out. “And 
if you were so worried about him being jealous, why didn’t you say 
something to Minami-san?”

Minako said nothing. She didn’t look at any of them. What she really 
wanted to do was bolt out of the door, but she knew that Makoto 
would catch her. Usagi sighed.

“You were afraid he might be right, weren’t you, Minako-chan?” she 
said softly. “You were afraid Takehiko-san was telling the truth and 
you didn’t want to think about it. So you didn’t tell Isamu-san.” 
She paused, waiting for an answer, but none came. “It’s not like you 
to be afraid, Minako-chan.”

“I hate him!” Minako burst out, startling them all. “Why did he have 
to spoil it?”

“He wasn’t spoiling anything, Minako-chan, he was just trying to 
protect you,” Usagi protested.

“What gives him the right to try and protect me?!”

“He gave you some advice, Minako-chan, he didn’t force you to take 
it,” Ami said, frowning. “Why are you so angry with him?”

“Because it was none of his business!” Minako shouted. “Why did he 
have to stick his nose in where it didn’t belong? I didn’t *want* 
his advice!”

“Minako-chan, what is your problem? He was just trying to help!” 
Makoto protested. “We spent three years protecting the people of 
this planet and I bet loads of them would have told us to bugger off 
because they didn’t want our protection! But that didn’t matter, 
because we knew better! We knew they needed us.”

Minako laughed bitterly. “Oh, so you’re saying I *needed* his 
advice?”

Makoto felt her temper rising. “I don’t know. He obviously thought 
so, but then he doesn’t know you very well, or he’d know that you 
never take advice...”

Minako opened her mouth and closed it; she couldn’t say anything to 
that, it was the truth. So she turned and stalked out. Ami let out a 
sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Well, that could have gone 
worse.”

Makoto looked at her. “How, exactly?”

Usagi wasn’t listening. She was staring at the door, thinking of how 
Minako had gone pink when Takehiko mentioned Sailor V; how she’d 
deliberately hinted that she’d been the legendary masked senshi. She 
was thinking of the look that had passed between Takehiko and Minako 
when he’d made that comment about long legs. Never mind what Minako 
said, what she thought she felt about him, Usagi knew what she’d 
seen: a mating dance, challenge met by challenge, the heat steadily 
rising. It was probably a good thing that they’d been in the arcade, 
otherwise...

Usagi shivered. Not going there.

“Usagi-chan? Are you all right?” Ami asked.

“Mm. Just... I’m worried about Minako-chan.” Not a total lie.

“Aren’t we all?” Makoto sighed, putting an arm around her shoulders. 
“Come on, let’s get back out there, before she totally embarrasses 
herself.”

The situation seemed under control when they returned. Takehiko was 
still playing the game (Usagi noted that he’d already got up to 
Level 12) and Minako was reading her magazine again.

Ken and Motoki were still talking. “Can I ask you something?” Motoki 
began, smiling slightly. “This is going to sound stupid, but... have 
we met before?”

Ken stared at him. “I don’t think so. Why?”

Takehiko looked up, his eyes sharpening. Usagi was trying to think 
how Motoki could have met Ken before... and then she remembered. And 
her heart dropped through the floor and kept on going.

“I don’t know... your face just seems so familiar.” Motoki shrugged, 
a helpless smile on his face.

Ken’s eyes darkened and his mouth opened slightly. Usagi watched the 
realisation spread over his face, her heart pounding distantly in 
her ears. She had to do something, she had to stop him before he 
blurted everything out.

“Oh yeah,” Ken said slowly. His lips pulled upwards in a simulation 
of a smile. “I think we bumped into each other... when that wedding 
mannequin was still there, remember? I said ‘She looks like she’s 
desperate to escape a wedding, not go to one.’”

Motoki began to laugh. “Yes! That was it! I thought I remembered 
you.” He shook his head, still laughing. “It’s funny, I don’t 
remember much about that time, but I remember you.”

Takehiko returned his attention to the screen. Usagi felt like 
collapsing in relief.

“We can’t remember everything,” Ken answered, that horrible 
fake grin still on his face. “But I guess I just have one of those 
faces...”

Motoki nodded. “Well, thanks for coming in. I’ll call you this 
weekend and let you know whether you’ve got the job or not.”

“Arigatou...” Ken turned and gave Takehiko a look of pure horror. 
Takehiko stood up immediately.

“Nice to meet you, girls,” he said, “but I’m afraid we have to run.”

“But you haven’t finished your game!” Makoto called.

“You can finish it for me,” he answered with a brief smile, almost 
pushing Ken out of the arcade. “Ja ne, Usagi-san.”

Usagi waved, wishing that she could go with them. Ken looked 
nauseated, as if he was going to throw up at any moment. Takehiko 
had one hand on Ken’s shoulder, keeping him close. Usagi sat back, 
reassuring herself. Takehiko wouldn’t let anything happen.

“Do you think he’s okay?” Makoto enquired, peering out of the window 
after the two men. “He went white all of a sudden.”

“Why don’t you go and ask him if you’re so worried?” asked Minako, a 
hint of a challenge in her voice.

Makoto hesitated, her cheeks going pink. “Do you think I should? I 
mean, I don’t want to seem rude...”

Minako looked up from her magazine. Her expression was suddenly 
kind. “Mako-chan, you like him, don’t you? Ken-san?”

Makoto laughed a bit and then looked away. “Am I that obvious?”

“If Kitano-san hadn’t been there, you’d have been offering to take 
him home and make him some soup, ne?” Minako said, grinning 
slightly. “So go for it. Don’t let *him* stop you.”

“I’ve got Ken-san’s mobile number, Mako-chan; maybe you can phone 
him tonight,” Usagi suggested, ignoring the feeling of unease that 
was slowly creeping up her spine. “Just to check that he’s okay.”

Makoto looked at her, eyes bright. “Really? Hang on, let me get my 
phone.” She dived into her handbag and brought out her pink mobile, 
smiling. Usagi found Ken’s number and watched as Mako happily tapped 
it in, telling herself that this was perfectly fine. 

Minako smiled. “At least *one* of us should be able to have a decent 
boyfriend,” she said under her breath.

* * *

“We’re going to Bestemama’s house, Ken-kun, and that’s final.”

“I’m all right, really.”

“Try telling me that when your face doesn’t remind me of chalk,” 
Takehiko replied, turning him down another street towards the 
Norwegian part of Juuban.

Ken sucked in a breath. “I’m sorry, okay, I just remembered...”

“Just remembered why he knows you. I know, Ken-kun. I know.” 
Takehiko opened a gate, leading him up a plain stone path and 
knocking on a dark blue door.

Ken leaned against him. He wanted to explain that the nausea he felt 
was nothing to do with his stomach and all to do with the memory 
that was suddenly clouding his head. He heard the door open. There 
was a question, then an answer, followed by an exchange in 
Norwegian, the foreign language rising and falling pleasantly on 
Ken’s ears. He lifted his head to look at the older woman in front 
of him, her dark blue eyes narrow with worry.

“Hey, Mrs. Helga,” he said in English, the language he always used 
in this house. “Sorry to drop in on you like this... I’m not feeling 
too good.”

“So I see,” said Helga, in that crisp English which he loved so 
much. “Take him up to bed, Balthasar, I have some soup on the stove 
that might do him good.” 

Ken was never sure which he liked more: Takehiko and Helga speaking 
Norwegian, or speaking English. Their accent wasn’t home like a 
Canadian accent, but it spoke to him in a different way. It was 
clear, with no mispronounciation, and a careful consideration of 
each word. Best of all, they sometimes mixed English and Norwegian 
and rolled their Rs. Ken loved that sound. There was something 
almost... primitive about it...

Takehiko pushed the door of his room open and let Ken collapse on 
his bed. He knew that this wasn’t going to last long (fortunately 
for Ken), but he also knew that while it lasted, the episode would 
be extremely painful and Ken would need peace and someone who would 
understand what he was going through. He pulled a chair away 
from his desk to the bedside and sat down. Ken’s eyes were closed; 
he still looked pale, but the green tinge had gone from his skin. 
Not a great improvement, but better than nothing.

After a few moments, Ken opened his eyes. There was a bleakness in 
them that Takehiko had hoped he wouldn’t see again. “I used him... I 
used him, Hi-kun! He was my... my victim.” Ken spat the word out as 
if it were something rotten.

Takehiko looked at him, wishing that he could say this was all a 
dream. “I know,” he said instead, using English like Ken. “Kunzite 
was watching.”

The use of the name struck Ken as odd, but he was too upset to 
figure out why. He put his head in his hands. “I didn’t care about 
him. I didn’t care at all. He was just a puppet...”

There was a knock on the door. Takehiko got up and opened it. Ken 
heard the brief exchange of Norwegian once more, then the door 
closed and Takehiko came back to the bed, carrying a tray.

“Eat this up or I will not be responsible for what she does,” he 
said with a little smile, putting a tray down on Ken’s knees. It 
held a large white bowl of steaming, greenish soup with herbs 
scattered on the top and a plate with slices of warm bread.

Ken looked away. “I don’t feel hungry.”

“Eat it.” There was a definite note of command in Takehiko’s voice 
now. “It’s purresuppe, very good for you.”

“Pura-what?” Ken said, looking at him as if he was insane.

“Otherwise known as leek soup. Leeks, potatoes, onions, parsley, 
some beef broth...” Takehiko noticed Ken’s expression change 
slightly and smiled to himself. “Very filling,” he added.

“All right, I’ll try it,” Ken said, making it sound as if even one 
mouthful would be an effort. He picked up his soup spoon, dipped it 
in the soup, and took a small sip.

The next five minutes were silent and peaceful as Ken ate the rest 
of the soup and the bread. Takehiko sat watching him, feeling 
grateful that this was Ken. Xavier and Isamu would have been 
insulted if he’d tried to distract them with soup. Of course, with 
Xavier, he would have just substituted cake or anything with a high 
sugar content, preferably including chocolate.

Ken put the soup spoon down with a little sigh. “Nice...” He sank 
back and looked at the ceiling. “How am I going to do this? I was 
almost sick in front of him just remembering it, Hi-kun. I didn’t 
care about him at all. I mean, he was *nothing* to me. How... how am 
I going to work with him and deal with that?”

“The same way I work with Mamoru and deal with my feelings,” 
Takehiko said quietly. “I know it’s hard. I know that you feel sick, 
that you want to scream and cry and beg for his forgiveness. But 
this is what being reborn is all about. For us, anyway,” he added 
with a sigh. “This is your karma. Let’s look on the bright 
side.”

“The bright side?” Ken repeated. “*You* are telling *me* to look on 
the bright side?”

“I’ve learned something from being around you,” Takehiko replied, 
giving him a weary smile.

“Go on then,” Ken said, almost laughing. “What’s the bright side?”

“You only used Furuhata, you didn’t kill him. And karma is about 
making up for your wrong deeds.”

“What better way to make up for my wrong deeds than to help him at 
work?” Ken finished. He shook his head. “I feel like I should be 
doing more than that.”

“If the opportunity arises, take it, but keep to your job 
description until that happens,” Takehiko replied. “We can’t afford 
to draw attention to ourselves at the moment.”

Ken pushed the tray away and looked at the ceiling again, blinking 
hard. “I feel horrible,” he said in a whisper. “Like I’m not really 
human.”

“But you are.” Takehiko sounded so sure that Ken looked at him, 
seeking that certainty for himself. “If you weren’t human, you 
wouldn’t be feeling this way. It’s the absence of feeling that we 
need to worry about, Ken. This... this is normal. Trust me. I know.”

“How often do you feel like this?” Ken asked.

Takehiko looked at him, the same steady look that Ken remembered 
from their very first meeting. “Every single day,” he said.

Ken’s vision blurred for a moment and he blinked rapidly. He 
couldn’t imagine feeling like this every single day. “Since when?” 
he whispered.

“Since I remembered killing our master,” Takehiko said, his voice 
not changing in the slightest. He took the tray from the bed and put 
it on the table by the door. “Don’t worry, I’m used to it.”

“You shouldn’t be used to it!” Ken burst out, his outrage finally 
burning away the nausea and depression which had been holding him 
down. “You shouldn’t have to live with those feelings! Jesus, you’ve 
done more than any of us to make up for what you did, Kunzite-!”

“Don’t call me by that name!”

The words echoed in the room for a moment, like a gunshot. Then Ken 
took a deep breath and plunged. “Why not? It’s who you were, it’s 
who you *are*, no matter how much you try and deny it.”

“That man betrayed everything he stood for and killed the one person 
he was supposed to protect,” Takehiko said, still not looking at 
him. “I am not that man.”

“You didn’t do that on purpose!” Ken brushed a hand over his eyes, 
frustrated at the persistent tears, then turned, placing his feet on 
the floor. “You were manipulated! We were all manipulated, haven’t 
you just told me that?”

“This is different.”

“How? How is it different?” Ken demanded, aching inside. “You were 
just the same as the rest of us-!”

“No, I wasn’t!” Takehiko snapped, turning and looking at him. His 
eyes were blazing with a cold fire and Ken flinched back 
instinctively. “I was the leader! I should have been better, I 
should have been stronger, I should have *done* something instead of 
allowing her to brainwash me *again*...”

“Stop blaming yourself for something you couldn’t control!” Ken 
begged, tempted to shake his friend, even though he knew that 
wouldn’t do any good. “You were weak, you had no idea what was going 
on, you can’t measure yourself against the standards you have now!”

Takehiko sighed. “Ken, my feelings are not the issue at the moment. 
Yours are. We’re trying to make *you* feel better.” 

“How do you expect me to feel better when I know that you’re 
tormenting yourself every day over something which you can’t change, 
something which wasn’t even your choice?!” Ken ran his hands through 
his hair. “How am I supposed to feel better when I know you can’t 
even accept who and what you were? I mean, what hope do I have if 
*you* can’t do that?”

Takehiko stared at him for a moment. Then he sat down on the bed and 
put an arm around Ken’s shoulders. “You didn’t do anything dreadful 
like I did, Ken. And you are much better at forgiving than I ever 
was.”

“But how can you tell me that I’m human and that this is what I’m 
meant to do and not believe it?” Ken groaned.

“I do believe it. I believe that you *are* human and you will work 
out your karma. I believe that about Xavier and Isamu as well.”

“But not about yourself?” Ken looked up, tears of frustration in his 
eyes. “You believe in our redemption, but you can’t believe in 
yours?” He pushed Takehiko away, leaping to his feet in frustration. 
“How can you say that? If you believe that *Isamu* can redeem 
himself, after all the shit he’s pulled, then how come you can’t 
believe you’ll be redeemed? I mean, how do you know you haven’t been 
redeemed already?” he cried, turning and holding out his hands. 
“You’re here, aren’t you? You’re alive, despite everything! You’re 
human, even if you don’t feel like it, you’re just as human as I am! 
You work *damn* hard and you put up with so much, from all of us! 
And from Mamoru, too,” he added, frowning. “You spend all that time 
searching for him and then he goes and accuses you of trying to 
steal Usagi! If he’d done that to me, I would have punched him!”

“He would never have accused you of doing that, Ken,” Takehiko said, 
smiling for the first time in a while. “I seem to make other men 
feel uneasy where women are concerned.”

Ken snorted. “So? It still didn’t give him any right to go and 
accuse you of... of adultery!”

Takehiko swallowed a laugh. “It’s only adultery if one of you is 
married, Ken.”

Ken rolled his eyes. “Oh please, they practically *are* married.”

This time, Takehiko couldn’t keep the laughter in. “Touché.”

“And what do you mean ‘other men’?” Ken went on, raising his 
eyebrows. “Somebody else accused you of trying to steal his girl?”

“In a way.” Takehiko smiled that faint, amused smile. “Isamu.”

Ken stared at him. “Isamu?” he said blankly.

“Mm, I was talking to Rei Hino and Isamu... was not pleased.”

“But... I thought Isamu was going out with Minako,” Ken said, 
looking puzzled.

“Yes, he is.”

“But he was jealous of you talking to Rei?”

“Yes.”

There was silence as Ken digested this. Takehiko did a countdown 
from ten in his head. Ken exploded right on time.

“Why the hell is he going out with Minako if he’s jealous about 
Rei?!”

Takehiko shrugged. “Something to do with the fact that Minako is 
willing to go out with him and Rei isn’t?”

Ken was pacing up and down the room. “But he should make her 
willing! Well, not make her, I mean - I mean, he’s always said he 
wanted a challenge, and now he’s got one he’s chickened out?!”

Takehiko looked at the floor, laughing inside. “Well, I wouldn’t put 
it quite like that...”

“I’m going to have a talk with him!” Ken said, pulling his phone out 
from his pocket. Then he shook his head and put it back in. “No, 
this has to be done face to face. I can’t believe him. I mean, he 
isn’t even going out with her and he gets jealous of you!”

“It’s a difficult situation, Ken, you won’t make it easier by 
yelling at him,” Takehiko warned, standing up.

“I wasn’t going to yell... not much, anyway. I thought we could talk 
to him together.”

“I’ve already spoken to him about it. He’s a grown man, Ken, it’s 
his life.”

“And what about *her* life?” Ken asked, staring at him. “He 
shouldn’t be going out with her if he feels that way about another 
girl! It’s hypocrisy! How could you just let him go ahead and do 
it?”

“It’s not hypocrisy, Ken. There are many different ways of loving a 
person. Isamu does care about Minako, but it’s just not the same.” 
Takehiko shrugged. “And it’s her choice, as well. She didn’t have to 
go out with him. I know for a fact that she’s perfectly aware of how 
he feels about Rei.”

Ken stopped. “She knows? She knows that he likes Rei better?”

“That’s right.”

Deflated, Ken sat back on the bed. “But... that doesn’t make sense. 
Why go out with him when she knows...?”

“Because she thinks having something is better than having nothing,” 
Takehiko answered softly.

Ken looked at him, mouth twisted. “Not when ‘something’ means going 
out with a man that you know is in love with your friend.”

Takehiko felt a twist in his stomach. /Ken thinks so, too. Ken 
thinks this is wrong. He’d back you up./

/Shut up./ 
 
“It’s her choice,” he repeated. “Even if it’s the wrong choice, it’s 
hers to make.” He picked his jacket from the back of the door. “But 
if you still want to talk to Isamu about it, we should go now.”

“Yeah, I’ll still talk to him. He’s still running away from Rei, no 
matter what you say,” Ken said, setting his jaw.

Takehiko nodded, taking the tray and following him down the stairs. 
If Isamu actually listened to Ken, maybe Minako wouldn’t be hurt too 
badly. Even if Isamu didn’t listen, at least Ken felt better about 
his past. More importantly, he wouldn’t try and argue about 
forgiveness again.

/Yes, it’s easy to say ‘forgive yourself’. But not so easy to do it. 
It’s easy to say that you deserve something, but not to feel it. You 
deserve the best, all of you. Because you are the best. Someday, 
everyone will know. That is my wish./ 

He bit his lip, thinking of her eyes and her words. 

...It was just nice to meet a man who’s handsome and intelligent, 
someone who actually flirts with me, doesn’t totally ignore me for 
her...

/Who could ever ignore you? But I can’t wish for that. I won’t wish 
for that. I won’t wish for you. You deserve to be happy./

Happiness, as he knew all too well, was not something that came 
easily to him.


DISCLAIMER: I do not own the characters and places of Bishoujo 
Senshi Sailor Moon. They belong to Naoko Takeuchi. Worship her. 
However, I do own Isamu, Ken, Xavier and Takehiko’s lives. So make 
sure you ask before borrowing. Or I’ll set the fangirls on you.


AUTHOR’S NOTES: Various factors (exams and work) combined to keep me 
and my beta reader busy, but it’s finally here! So you’ve found out 
who Angela is and you’ve met some of the Minamis.

* Médécins Sans Frontières is better known in the US as ‘Doctors 
Without Borders’, which is the literal translation. However, it 
seems that in Japan the organisation is known by its original title, 
translated into hirigana.

* Tempura: see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tempura, which explains 
it better than I ever could.

* Bestemama: ‘Grandmother’ in Norwegian.

* Purresuppe: Norwegian dish, pronounced ‘pura-suppa’.

I am not sure if there is a Norwegian ‘quarter’ in Juuban as such, 
but Juuban is where most of the foreign communities live in Tokyo, 
and it also has the Norwegian Embassy. Norway and Japan have a good 
diplomatic relationship and a lot of trade agreements (I checked the 
Norwegian Embassy website, haha), so I hope that makes it easier to 
suspend your disbelief. ;)


blue: Takehiko is indeed ‘flawed’, though not half as much as he 
thinks, obviously. He has a very low opinion of himself as a human 
being. And even if he did kiss Minako... it would not automatically 
lead to smut. Because he is principled. Sadly. And when it comes to 
Isamu and Rei, yes, you are predictable.

Bena: Ken is Ken because it doubles both as a Japanese and a Western 
name, which is important for him, because of his parentage. Xavier 
has always been Xavier, it’s the only name left over from my 
original shitennou story ‘Morphine Allergy’. You will find out why 
he’s called that in *this* story later on. Isamu took a while to 
find and Takehiko was the hardest of all, because he has two names. 
I have seen PGSM and I love it. There are some nods to it in this 
story, but they’re very subtle. ^^

galena_steel: It means a lot that the boys feel real to you, since I 
recently got a review saying that they felt one-dimensional. I have 
put a lot of time into their characters, I have backgrounds for all 
of them, which will be gradually coming to light over the course of 
the story.

SmileyBecka: So you got to see how Minako reacted. ;) I enjoyed 
writing the interaction between Takehiko and Rei, it’s not often you 
see her wrong-footed. Hope you like this chapter just as much.


See you next time!

Starsea xxx