Mamoru could say a lot of things to Usagi. He could honestly say his residency at Tokyo Memorial had occupied the majority of space in his brain. He could honestly say it seemed time was passing by more quickly these days, which turned into weeks, which turned into months. He could even say he would make it up to her, honestly he could. But all that honesty sounded more like excuses, and they weren’t going to get him anywhere. Mamoru had failed to remember his wife’s birthday this year. As he drove home, he knew he wasn’t going to hear the end of it for a long, LONG time.