'I Want' Doesn't Get

Serena/Usagi/Darien/Mamoru AU Unrequited/Angst/Romance/Horror with a touch of psychological study.

2020 Reformat AN:
So I do still like this story, flawed as it is, but in retrospect I really only set it in the Sailor Moon universe because first-season-90's-Anime Mamoru's tendency to 'pull Usagi's pigtails' worked for the dynamic I was going for to set up the story. This is a meditation on the nature of obsession, teasing-in-place-of-affection, and why these are not necessarily desirable things despite how our culture tends to romanticize them.

Potential OOC and darkness DO abound in this story (I'm not kidding about the trigger/content warning below). I would still love to hear what you think, but only if you're coming in with in the context that this is probably not what you're looking for if you're coming from seeing me review other Sailor Moon UsaMamo fic.

Original ANs:
This is probably the single least WAFF-y thing I've ever written, and definitely the least WAFF-y thing that I've posted on here. I am mildly obsessed with love and happy endings and Serena and Darien are one of my OTPs, but I wrote this based extremely (extremely, seriously can't emphasize that enough) loosely on some of my own experiences (in the fist part of the story, not the second part, that is all out of my imagination) as a sort of personal empowerment exercise. I like how it turned out, but if I stumbled upon this from someone else I don't think I'd like it much at all.

If you are looking for a happy ending, hit your back button.

Warning: THIS STORY IS DARK, and could potentially include TRIGGER WARNINGS. Please do not read it if you have any kind of sensitivities.

I mean how was I supposed to feel? I was in love, I'd been in love for as long as I'd known her. It wasn't like I'd expected that I'd ever tell her or anything; she wasn't interested in men, and even if she had been I wouldn't have ever expected someone like her, someone so beautiful, vivacious, funny (both when she meant to be and when she didn't), and far smarter than she would ever believe, to go for someone like me. Not because I'm some sad-sack self-loathing poor sap or anything like that, but because I know how the world works: someone who could outshine the sun doesn't belong with someone who stays out of the light.

But it was all moot anyways, because I met her when she was nineteen and in college, working part-time at the Senshi cafe just outside the Waseda University campus, where I had just gotten a job on the weekends to try to minimize the debt I would be in by the time I finished medical school at Tokyo Medical University. The moment I saw her, it had been as if the world had fallen out from under my feet; I hadn't ever known anyone or anything to shake my world like she did. I still haven't.

I suppose I'll never know what I would have done that first day if I hadn't stopped to ask Makoto, one of the chefs who'd been there for a while, if she was single first. The bomb Makoto dropped shook me only slightly less than seeing her the first time had: she was single, but she was also a self-proclaimed lesbian, having recently gotten out of a relationship with some girl called Naru, who lived in her dorm.

I don't really believe in love at first sight, or soul mates, or any of that nonsense that they fill Disney movies and Chick Flicks with; I find it all trite and far too convenient. But I couldn't deny that even upon discovering that she was permanently and irrevocably off the table, some part of me couldn't let her go. The more I got to know her, the more and more certain I felt of the thunderstruck moment I had experienced when I first saw her, the instant attraction and desire and wanting. Not that she felt it too or anything, I wasn't going to delude myself that way. But she was clever and funny, and if I brought up any topics she was interested in, a subject related to a class she was taking, the new video game that just came out, a band that she liked, the passionate and intelligent dialogue she would happily open with me made my heart flip over in my chest. She glowed when she was excited, and I was afraid to try to live without that glow, even as I knew that a glow comes from light, and light creates heat; heat that would burn me sooner or later. Entropy was an immutable law of the universe, but she herself was creating another kind of entropy in me.

Looking back, it surprises me how long it took, but as I watched her flirt with the other girls we worked with and consistently ignore me, I realized I couldn't stand it. The first time I didn't mean to. I was upset, hurt by the way she was leaning in towards Hotaru and smiling at her, laughing at some private joke they shared as though they were the only people who mattered in this world. Hotaru, at least, wasn't one of those people. She was, though. She had to be, for the way she was unintentionally dominating my existence, and the existence of everyone she was near.

As she walked past me, back towards the kitchen to grab some ketchup she'd forgotten to bring to one of her tables I leaned towards her "What are you, such a space cadet that you can't remember such simple things? For someone who's been working here for so long, I'd really expect better. I guess those dumplings you wear on your head aren't the only ones up there, huh, Odango Atama?" It wasn't at all what I wanted to say. I wanted to beg her, plead with her to try to look past my gender, wanted to know why she couldn't look at me the way she looked at some of the girls who worked there, the girls who came in to eat. Why I couldn't share an intimate moment with her like Hotaru just had. Hotaru was straight and didn't even like her, besides. I wanted to rail at her for the unfairness of it, and I guess some part of me felt that this was the next best thing. Hurt flashed in her eyes and I wanted to bite off my tongue. I never wanted to be the cause of pain in her.

But then the hurt faded and was replaced by anger. Hot, flashing anger that lit her up in a way that even her enthusiasm didn't, and this was directed at me, only at me.

"What the hell is your problem, jerk?"

"I'm just concerned about the team dynamics around here. I mean if you aren't carrying your weight then how can the rest of us be expected to succeed? I don't want to take a hit to my finances just because the Odango Atama can't do her job."

The look in her eyes was like fire, and a part of me sang. She was looking at me, only me, and with an intensity that I'd never seen her look at anyone else with.

"You're an asshole, and it's none of your business to comment on how I do my job, which I'll have you know is a damn site better than how you do yours." She huffed away then, spending the rest of the shift glaring daggers at me. She didn't flirt with anyone else the rest of that night, and I went home and dreamed of the look she'd gotten on her face when she'd defended herself.

She didn't have a nasty bone in her body, though, and it was beyond her capabilities to stay mad at anyone. The next shift I worked she was as sweet as ever to me, though I was again nowhere near the center of her attentions. It was three shifts later that I slipped up again, calling her an odango atama, questioning her abilities to do her job and her general competencies. A part of me wondered if she would still respond like she did if she knew how high of an esteem I actually held her in all the things I questioned. But she didn't, and she looked so mad she could spit, the flames back in her eyes as she glowered at me. I wanted to tell her she was beautiful when she was angry, although she was always beautiful. I wanted so badly to pull her to me and kiss her. Obviously, I didn't do either. Instead I told her to go take care of her tables rather than yell at me.

Things went along like that for months; I tried to be nice to her, mostly. But on the days that it got hard and I just couldn't stand to see her eyes on someone else I made her look at me in the only way I knew how. She told me I was a jerk, an asshole, that she hated me, to go fuck myself. I savored every single insult, every single barb she threw at me. They were for me, and only for me. She never looked at anyone else with the venom she hurled at me, never responded to anyone with the same fire and passion. Who really cared if it was a passionate hatred? It was more than I'd ever dreamed I might get. And, best of all, she never carried a grudge. Even on the days that she gave as good as she got, the days that she told me she never wanted to speak to me ever again, the day she deliberately trashed my section (with an "oops?" and innocent eye-bat) and I had to stay an extra hour at work to clean it up, not matter how bad things ever were, the next shift she always treated me exactly as she had on the day I was hired. Friendly enthusiasm. The way she treated everyone she wasn't close friends with in the cafe. But I was different, because I could make her treat me differently. I was special.

Then summer came. At the end of the previous summer I had lined up a continuation of my summer internship at Kameda Hospital, beginning in late May. If I had known then that I would meet her I would have tried to line one up in Tokyo proper, even though it was ten times harder. Kameda was in Yokohama, less than an hour away from the Senshi cafe, but working in a hospital is always a crazy experience and I knew I wouldn't have time to come out to the cafe and work. To see her. For the whole summer, I would be away from her. The cafe did let me suspend my employment, so I could pick it back up in the fall, so I knew I would come back to her, but the idea of being without her for three months stung more than even I thought it would.

I tried to convince her to come with me. Talked up a cafe in the area, how good the money was and how nice the staff were. I even mentioned how pretty some of the girls who worked there were. I saw her think about it, I know I did. But she didn't come.

If I had known at the time how much I would regret leaving without her, I wouldn't have. I would have canceled that stupid internship and stayed. I would have dragged her with me, even if the whole time she kicked and screamed bloody murder about how much she hated me. I would have told her that I loved her and had no idea how else to make her look at me and couldn't she please please try, just try, to love me too?

But how was I to know what would happen? No one ever could have.

I should have made better friends with some of the other people who worked there. Or told them how I felt. I may have received a warning, if that had been the case. But I didn't. I came back at the end of the summer months more excited than I'd ever been in my life. When I saw her, I realized only then how much I had truly missed her; how else would one explain why she suddenly seemed even more beautiful and vibrant, happier than she'd ever been?

It didn't take long for me to get an answer I'd never dreamed of, couldn't even begin to process. I thought it was a joke at first.

She was seeing someone.

She had been for most of the summer.

Seiya Kou.

A man.

The lesbian I was in love with was apparently a little less gay than she had previously thought.

My heart was a stone, and my veins felt like ice. I don't know, and probably never will, how I made it through that first shift without throwing myself to her feet and sobbing, begging to know why not me.

I didn't say a word to her that night, and I don't think she noticed. That was almost as bad.

My grades slipped, and I was picking up shifts at the cafe that I didn't have time for, just because I needed to see her, even if I couldn't have her. I was a junkie and she was the only fix that I wanted, the only one that worked.

It should have been me, I loved her more than he did. I'd loved her from the moment I met her, but then again who didn't? I'm sure he'd loved her from the moment he saw her, because how could he not? But he had made the move that I couldn't.

Then I found out something so much worse: She had made the move.

She had pursued him. Not the other way around. The love of my life had decided she wanted to try to be with a man who was not me WITHOUT him expressing any interest in her first.

After that I was vicious. I didn't want to be, but I couldn't help it. He came in one day to bring her a snack, and I saw her kiss him goodbye. I don't know what I said to her through my hurt and anger, and sometimes I wish I did, but I saw her crying in the kitchen later. It should have been me, it should have been me. Every time he came up in the conversation, she became starry eyed and giddy; she spoke about him with her friends Rei and Minako all the time, sometimes even with Makoto. It was the same sort of fire she'd had about me, but running the other way. This was a passionate love. On more than one occasion I clenched my fists so hard I was sure my hands must be bleeding where my fingernails had dug into them, the pain anchoring me and stopping me from saying anything to her I would regret. I didn't need more regrets.

She and I were having screaming matches every shift, at this point. I don't know when or how it changed, but she was still angry with me the next day more often than not now. But only when I saw her eyes flash with hate at me did I feel anything other than empty. So I kept finding weak chinks in her armor, kept trying to make her hate me. At least then, she thought of me.

And then, in February, I crossed a line. I had never known it was possible, that anything could happen that she wouldn't forgive. If I'd known, I wouldn't have done it, but by then I was so desperate for any of her attention that I wasn't thinking anything through. We were fighting, as was normal, and she threw something at me; I think it was a creamer pack, but I'm not sure. But I emptied a full milkshake into her apron pocket in response. It ruined her cell phone, and she stopped talking to me. Completely.

For weeks and weeks, nothing I did merited a response. She asked the managers to try not to schedule us for the same shifts. She ignored me entirely. I could speak to her and she would pretend not to hear me; I'd say something nasty and she'd let it roll right off. I didn't dare do anything beyond speak, for fear she'd push to have me fired. I couldn't. It was around then that I was put on academic probation.

Rei's birthday came around in April, and she invited both of us to her party. I knew she wouldn't skip Rei's birthday, with the two of them being so close. I was just surprised she allowed Rei to invite me, but Rei could be even more pigheaded than she was and probably said she'd invite whoever she wanted to her birthday party, thankyouverymuch. I prayed she wouldn't ignore my existence outside work. She couldn't, not at a party. She'd have to at least acknowledge me. I hoped.

The party was both wonderful and horrific. She brought him, Seiya, and I cursed my own stupidity for not considering that as a very real possibility; of course she brought the man she was dating with her. Why on earth wouldn't she? Out of consideration of my feelings? She didn't even know about them.

I watched the two of them canoodle as I drank in excess, hoping if I blacked out I at least wouldn't have to remember watching her gaze at and snuggle with someone else so adoringly. I was contemplating leaving, hailing a cab or holing up in a karaoke place or something other than stay here and suffer when I heard the most beautiful sound come from the kitchen: "Mamoru, you've worked in a bar, right? Would you make Rei's birthday shot? I don't trust myself to do it."

She'd acknowledged me. She'd said my name, she'd asked me for something. She'd asked me to do something when she didn't have to. There were other people present who had bartended before. She had asked me.

Remembering the sound of my name on her lips was the only thing that carried me through the rest of that night. That week, even.

She didn't outright ignore me after that night. She didn't talk to me, either, and she pretended I wasn't there whenever I tried to pick a fight with her. But if I spoke to her nicely she would respond. But I wasn't special anymore. Not in any way. I aroused no passion in her at all, it was as though I didn't exist to her unless I pushed my way into her awareness. And then she forgot about me the second I stepped back. She treated me even more distantly than people I was certain she didn't think about outside of work.

I was flailing, and I knew it. I was in danger of being kicked out of med school and the owner of the Senshi cafe had asked if I was feeling okay lately. I could barely bring myself to care about med school; it was my internship's fault that I had lost her, and I cared more for her than I did school. But I had to step up my game at the cafe, because without it I would never see her, and that was more than I could bear, though seeing her brought only pain. At this point, I was beginning to wonder if I really had anything in my life worth living for.

Then Makoto shoved her way into my life unexpectedly. She knew. I'm not quite sure how, although I guess I wasn't exactly subtle with my feelings if you knew about them at all, and she had been the one I had asked back on my first day. She decided that I had done quite enough moping, thank you, and forced me to get back on track with my studies. Forced me to take another summer internship, though I couldn't get one at a hospital near so nice as Kameda this year, with the slip in my grades. Forced me to suspend my employment again. Told me she'd still be there to mope over when I came back in the fall. And I went, for another three months, praying that it might possibly be possible that they would break up while I was gone. And if they did, I wanted to be as desirable a prospect as possible. I spent the summer studying and prepping to retake my comps and make up the damage to my grades as much as possible. I got commended and recommended by the chief of medicine and many other doctors in the hospital. I didn't have the time to miss her, but I did anyways. When I lay down in my bed, I dream she's laying next to me, that I could wrap her in my arms and hold her close to me. I imagine her telling me sleepily about her day, getting excited and waking herself up enough to sit up and ramble cheerily about whatever she was thinking of. I imagine making her laugh, throw back her head and laugh until her stomach hurts and even then she's still laughing. I imagine her looking at me the way I had seen her looking at him.

And then when I wake up I go about my day. I study. I do my job. The summer passes like that, with me wishing I were able to be more distracted but still thinking of her whenever I can. Makoto promised to let me know if anything changed, so I can be secure in my lack of anxiety.

It was midway through my second shift back at the Senshi cafe when I realized that Makoto lied to me, because Makoto didn't mention the diamond I suddenly notice sparkling on her most important finger.

Engaged. She was engaged.

I walked out of the cafe without looking back, without finishing my shift. I can't. I can't deal with it, I can't see it, I can't imagine her marrying someone who isn't me. It's too much. I could hardly function for at least a few days; I don't really remember what happened in that time, aside from some frantic calling and knocking from I assume Makoto. I didn't want to see her. Didn't want to hear her undoubtedly apologize for lying for "my own good."

I climbed out my apartment through the fire escape. At this point in time I had to do something. It was probably too late, but what else was I going to do at this point?

I stumbled to the cafe at fifteen to close, peered in through the window. She was there, standing near the front, smiling as she chatted with a table. She saw me and the smile faded from her face.

I wondered what that meant. Was she unhappy to see me, or just surprised? I pushed through the entryway and walked towards her. She had the same peculiar look on her face. "Mamoru, what are you doing here? Is everything all right?"

I reached out and touched her face. Her eyes widened and she took a step back. I stepped forward. She didn't step back again. "Usagi…"

"Mamoru, what the hell are you doing?"

"Usagi, I-" my voice died in my throat. What was I supposed to say? I love you? Don't marry him? Don't marry him, because I love you? She moved away from me again, looking over her shoulder.

"Did you want me to grab Motoki? I think he's in the back..."

The manager on duty. I cleared my throat. "…No." Her brow furrowed, confused.

"Paychecks aren't out for another week."

"...I didn't come for my paycheck."

"Then why did you come here?"

"I-" I paused again. Why was this so hard?

"Look, I have work to do; if you decide you have an actual reason to be here you can come get me."

I grabbed her wrist before she could walk away. I didn't look her in the eyes, knowing the words would die in my throat before I could ever get them out if I did.

"You."

"What?"

"I came for you."

"Excuse me?"

Well, it was half out anyways, and I figure it's now or never. "I love you, Usagi. I've been in love with you since I met you."

She gaped at me. Blinked. Gaped some more. "I'm sorry, I must have just hallucinated. Would you repeat that, please?"

"I'm in love with you. I've been in love with you as long as I've known you, and it's killing me."

She gaped again, then started laughing. Not the rolling, bubbling laughter that I had fantasized about drawing from her, but an extremely nervous laugh tinged with just a touch of hysteria. "You… you 'love' me. You're 'in love' with… with me?"

"I am. For a long time now. And watching you. be with him. It's been killing me."

"You have a fucking funny way of showing it!"

I blinked. "Pardon?"

"You pick on me every single goddamn shift we work together, you make me cry at least every other week, you ruin my phone, and then you have the gall to turn around and tell me that you love me?"

"But I do love you; Usagi, I love you so much, I-"

"No. You just listen here, mister. You made me feel horrible about myself for more than a year, and then you turn around and tell me that you love me as soon as I get engaged? That's sick, even for you, and I'm not putting up with your bullshit. Not now, not ever again."

She turned to walk away and I froze down to my toes. Then I forced myself to move, to jump between her and the kitchen. I grabbed her upper arms, looked her in the eyes.

"The fuck are you doing?" she snarled. Snarled. I didn't even know she could snarl.

"When else would I have told you?"

"What?"

"If you're objecting to the timing, when would I have told you? I thought you were a lesbian until I got back to find you dating a man. I didn't want to try to compromise your relationship, but I can't let you marry him without knowing that you know that I love you."

She stared at me wide-eyed, and then released a bark of laughter. "Excuse you, let me? You have no say in anything that I do! You're not 'letting' me marry him, because it's not your goddamn call! I love Seiya, and I have never loved you, so you can just step right the fuck off." I felt my fingers slacken around her shoulders.

"Never?"

"Never. I hate you, or did you somehow not hear me saying that to you every day for the last two years?"

"I never wanted you to… I just wanted you to see me..."

"Well, I saw you. Was it worth it?"

"Usagi-"

"Don't say my name like you're my friend."

"Usako-"

"Don't say it like you're my lover either!"

"What can I do? How can I make this up to you? Usagi, I have loved you from the moment I first met you, even though I think that's normally a bullshit literary convention. All I've wanted in the last two years is for you to look at me like I matter. And maybe the way I made you look at me was wrong, but what was I supposed to do?"

She shook her head, and I noticed what appeared to be the beginnings of tears kissing her lash line. "Nothing. It's too late. You can't just hit some reset button and get a do-over. I love someone else, and I'm going to marry him. So I'm sorry, if you actually do love me, that I don't love you back, but you'll have to forgive me for being a bit skeptical of sudden declarations of love when they come from you."

"No, Usagi…"

She crossed her arms in front of herself, looked down at the floor of the cafe. "You should go. I have work to do."

Here it was. Rock bottom. I had nothing else to lose.

I stepped up, grabbed her face between my hands and kissed her.

It was the best kiss I had ever experienced, but it was admittedly cut a bit premature by her pulling away and slapping me across the face. "Go, before I call the police." Her voice was the coldest I'd ever heard.

"Usagi-"

"GO."

I looked back at her, and then exited the cafe, not sure where I was going. I stood at the window long enough to watch her sit down hard at the nearest table and bury her face in her hands. The one table in the restaurant stared quizzically at her, murmuring amongst themselves, until Motoki came out, (having been alerted by the kitchen staff that something was happening, I assume) and smoothed things over. I wasn't sure who she was upset with, me or her, and I didn't know how to fix any of it.

I'm not proud of my behavior over the next few weeks; there were many letters and nights that I stopped by either her apartment or the cafe to plead my case. I asked Makoto to talk to her, and Rei as well. Rei flatly refused, and within a few days Makoto wished that she had refused as well, as Usagi stopped speaking to her for almost a month after.

But I loved her. I loved her so much it hurt, and I didn't know what else to do.

You have to let her go, seemed like the advice I was getting from everyone. But how do you let go of your soulmate when the only reason you can't be together was because you made a few mistakes along the way, because the fates conspired to screw you over? Because you loved her so much that you couldn't stand it and there wasn't anything you could do but what you did, and what you did was wrong? I dedicated songs to her on the radio, I left messages on her phone. I sent her emails and wrote her letters. I even wrote her a song, but I was hit with the restraining order before I could find a way to play it for her.

She doesn't love you, said Makoto. She doesn't love you and you can't change that.

I love her enough for the both of us.

You can't; no relationship has ever worked like that.

How would you know? Maybe this one will.

No, it won't. You're only going to hurt yourself and her.

You know I'd never hurt her.

You already did.

I just wanted to make her happy, why can't anyone see that?

You want to make her happy, Mamoru?

Then you have to let her go.

You have to let her go.

I wanted to shut out Makoto's words. Who was she to pretend to know anything? She'd never loved anyone the way I loved Usagi. The way I was sure somewhere in herself Usagi had to love me; there was no other outcome that I would ever be able to accept. None. I couldn't be without her, I couldn't stand back and let her marry someone else, someone who would never feel about her the way I would always feel about her. I love her more than anyone has ever loved anyone. It was the purest, truest love that there had ever been, of that I was certain. There was no other way to explain the pain I felt at the idea of never seeing her again or, worse, her never seeing me again.

Not physically, of course. What terrified me was the idea of her always looking through me. I was starting to fear that I didn't exist when her eyes weren't on me. It felt like other people were simulations, they weren't as real and vibrant as she was. They seemed a shade or two... off. The Matrix had me, and she was the only One who could pull me out of it.

There's no excuse for what I did the next Wednesday. Well, no good excuse. I understand why I did it, and I don't exactly regret it. But I don't think she appreciated it much. I saw her car while I was driving and I couldn't stop myself; I collided with her. Yes, it was deliberate.

The first few seconds were like a dream come true; she hopped out of the car crying "are you okay, oh my god, can I do anything-" and then she recognized who I was. I barely had time to blink before she'd locked herself in her car again, refusing to get out. She called the police. She stayed in the car, windows rolled up and staring dead ahead (unless I tried to walk into her line of vision, in which case she looked elsewhere) until the police arrived, And then she rolled down the window to talk to them and stayed in the car.

She couldn't prove I'd hit her on purpose or that I had no business being in the same area as where she was driving; how could I be expected to know her schedule well enough to avoid her like that? So I was let off scot-free, a fact that she truly seemed less-than-thrilled about. (I believe her exact words were "What do you mean you can't arrest him? No evidence?! He hit my fucking car, and there's a restraining order against him, what the fuck else do you think is going on?!")

And that's when I got my brilliant idea. Well, my latest one.

I was waiting down the street from her apartment for her rental car to pass me; I had called the company and claimed to be Seiya to get the make, model and color. She'd gone with something nondescript and not at all her; I wouldn't have been surprised if she'd picked a pepto-bismal pink Beetle. But I think she was trying to stop me from doing exactly what I was doing. She should have known better. You can't stop a love like mine, you can just delay it for a little while. Sooner or later I would make her understand. The alternative was unthinkable.

The silver Acura passed me, and I pulled out after her, drove along behind her, just able to revel in being somewhat near her. Being able to see her without her seeing me. I guess I didn't think it all the way through, because a week later I was arrested. I guess she noticed the same car following her, got ahold of my plates, and reported me. I cursed my stupidity for not changing cars every few days, especially since I'd been driving a rental anyways. I spent two weeks in lockup before I was bailed out by Makoto, who informed me that Waseda had dropped me from their program. I was unemployed, my car was totaled. I was already late with my rent, having been in lockup during that time; the eviction process would be starting in a few days, and I didn't have the money to pay. I was out of options.

You see, your honor, it wasn't my fault; I was between a rock and a hard place and it was the only thing I could do. I never meant for it to happen.

"Just continue your testimony, please."

Yes, your honor.

I stayed out of her way after that. For a little while. I couldn't do it for long; I hardly felt that I existed without her sunlight in my life. It couldn't have been more than a few weeks, but I'd ceased counting by then. I was crashing on Makoto's couch for the time being, but she was dropping hints that I needed to find something else soon. The days all blurred together. Without her, there was nothing to make any day different than any other. Nothing.

One day I went for a walk in the park near her apartment complex. I didn't expect to see her, really. I just needed to be near enough to know that it was a possibility. I couldn't keep going with the knowledge that I couldn't see her ever again. I just couldn't. You've been in love before, right?

…I guess that's a stupid question. It sometimes seems like no one else has experienced this kind of love before. Not love like this. The kind of love that surpasses time and distance and all other obstacles. That isn't affected by opposition. You don't know what it's like? I'm sorry for you.

But I did see her. Well, I heard her first. Heard a familiar laugh that made my stomach quiver and I ducked into the bushes, eyes scanning desperately to see the only thing that made me feel anything. She was out on a bike, the sunlight making her hair shine gold and my heart seize up. The smile on her face blew the floor out from under my feet. She was so beautiful. So, so beautiful. For a moment I wasn't sure if she was an angel fallen from the skies or if she was really my clumsy, sweet, beautiful Usagi. My palms were bleeding from the way I dug my nails into them, the fists I was making to restrain myself from going up to her. And then I couldn't feel my palms anymore, not even the sticky-wet of the blood, because he had biked up behind her, calling to her to wait for him. She was laughing, telling him to hurry up, to catch her if he could. If he could. What if he couldn't? He hit a well-placed rock or a crack in the sidewalk or something then, and the bike pitched to the side, with him toppling off. She was far too far ahead to hear his cries to wait up as anything other than what they had been five minutes ago, teasing platitudes. She thought he was still right behind her.

I crept forwards, watching him right his bike, yell after her again. The man she loved, for some reason. But she said that she couldn't accept my feelings because she was marrying someone else, right? I knew, knew deep in my heart, that she had to love me somewhere. If my gender didn't stop her from loving me, as I thought it had, then there was nothing, no reason why she wouldn't, didn't love me. She was my soulmate; it only stood to reason that I was hers too. True love like ours wasn't one-sided, not really. She had an obligation to him, that was all. But without him…

I don't think I even did it consciously. Definitely not on purpose. It wasn't planned, but I won't say it wasn't malicious. As he passed the bush I was behind I burst out and shoved him hard and he and the bike went tumbling down the hill into the nearby ditch; he must have turned over six or seven times as he rolled down the hill, and I heard the crack as his head and a rock connected at the bottom, wanted to call after him "that's why you wear a helmet, dumbass!" but I was too glad that he hadn't been to spurn the gift he was giving me unwittingly. I heard noises coming from the other direction, the one she'd left in. I didn't have time to respond before she came back into view, just stared deer-in-the-headlights style at her as she stopped her bike, put her foot to the ground and stared at me in the same way. "…Ma-Mamoru, what are you doing here? This is within 5000 feet of my apartment, you shouldn't be here…!" I advanced on her and her eyes widened. She moved to put the bike between us, and I moved it to the side, reached out for her face. She tried to step away, then to push me away as my arms encircled her. "Mamoru, let me the fuck go! Seiya, SEIYA!" I pressed her into me, cradled her head against my shoulder.

"Shh, shh. He's gone."

"GONE?!"

"You don't have any obligation to him anymore. It's okay. We can be together now."

"WHAT? Mamoru, what did you do?"

"I did what I needed to do. For us. Usako, we can be together now."

She started trying to beat her fists against me, to struggle. I was holding her too tight for her to do much, though. "I DON'T WANT TO BE WITH YOU. WHAT DID YOU DO?!"

I reached up and stroked her hair. "He'll never bother us again." She turned her head and bit my hand. I loosened my grip on her waist momentarily and she moved to run. I grabbed her wrist and she went to smack me with the other hand. Why was she fighting me?! I didn't understand. "Usako, it's okay. It's okay." I tried to soothe her, but she just kept trying to fight me. She broke my grip on her wrist and went to run, to right her bike and leave. I tackled her to the ground instead, skinning my knee as I did so. She looked terrified. Why was she afraid? All I wanted to do was love her, and yet it seemed she thought I wanted to kill her. Couldn't she see how much I loved her, with every fiber of what I was? That she was the center of my universe, and all I wanted was to worship her in the way that she deserved? I bent to kiss her, to show her, and she bit my lip, continuing to fight me. "Usako, I know I don't have as much to offer you as I did, but I can make you happy. I can make you so happy. Just let me-"

"HELP SOMEBODY HELP ME PLEASE, PLEASE SOMEONE-" I clapped my hand over her mouth. I had to make her understand, somehow, that I meant her no harm. I would never hurt her, I only wanted to make her happy. That's all I wanted! That's all I'd ever wanted.

You want to make her happy, Mamoru?

Then you have to let her go.

Makoto's words rose in my mind unbidden and made me want to scream. I was proving Makoto wrong, dammit, right here and right now. I would make her happy and I would have her, both.

"Your honor, I think that's all we really need to hear. Clearly my client was not in his right mind and did not mean to bring harm to Miss Tsukino-"

Harm? I didn't harm, I would never harm her! I love her!

"Therefore I don't believe we need to hear the rest of his testimony. Defense rests."

"Mr. Chiba, you may step-"

"Prosecution certainly does not rest. Please continue your testimony, Mr. Chiba."

What else could I have done, can you tell me that? What would you have done? Anyone who says they wouldn't have done the same thing is lying. They're lying to you.

She was screaming as she tried to shove me off of her; I don't recall now the words she said, but the core message wasn't great. Tears were kissing her lashes, and it pooled in my gut: a hopeless frustration. Why wouldn't she smile? Her happiness was the only thing I wanted, I wanted her to smile at me. And I wanted... wanted.

I pressed a kiss to her throat and felt her squirm against me. I could feel her breath catch in her throat and suddenly I wasn't sure that I remembered how to breathe. I heard her voice say my name, shakily, and it was all I needed; all I would ever get.

I pressed my own body against her smaller one, felt her shudder and I covered her mouth with mine. She bit my lip again, but this time it didn't hurt. As I kissed her, my hand trailed down her side and caressed the soft skin of her stomach, pushing her shirt up her body, exposing the light pink lace of her bra. I buried my face in the cleft of her breasts, kissing the skin there. I felt her squirm against me again and heard her say something that sounded like my name in combination with a variety of expletives, softly, shudderingly. My fingers followed the curve of her thigh and disappeared under her skirt. She bucked against me and dug her nails into my back, dragging claw marks out that lasted for days afterwards. Her voice came out shrill and pitchy this time; she was repeating something over and over again, but it was like I was hearing her from underwater, like I was on an airplane rapidly ascending yet my ears just wouldn't pop. I kissed my way down her exposed stomach and her leg jerked against me, almost knocking me over; I wrapped my arm around her leg, stilling it, and buried my face between her legs.

I worshipped every gasp that my actions pulled from her throat, every shudder of her body. At one point, she half-sprung up, shuddering, and I crawled my way up her body so that we were nose-to-nose. I entered her then; witnessing the flash of pain that crossed her face was nearly more than I could bear. I stilled, kissing the tears away from her lash line and she retreated away from me.

"Usako, Usako, it's okay. It's okay. I love you. God, I love you. I love you so much, Usako. I love you…"

Afterwards, as I lay curled against her dreamily, I realized her body was shaking, and not in a good way. She was crying silently, her whole body being wracked with inaudible sobs.

"Usagi? What's wrong?"

"Why? Why, Mamoru? Why wouldn't you just leave me alone? Why didn't you just let me go?"

I was too stunned by hearing those words from her own lips to even try to stop her as she pushed away from me and limped off, out of my sight. I was still laying in the park, unable to feel anything but crushed, when the police arrived.

They say you can't miss something you never really had, but I don't agree. I don't agree at all.

"Mr. Chiba, the court finds you guilty of rape in the second degree and attempted murder in the second degree, for which you will be sentenced to 30 years in prison without parole.

When Mr. Kou gets out of the hospital, he and Miss Tsukino will become members of the witness protection program and move abroad in hopes of distancing themselves from this ordeal.

Court is adjourned."