The Longest Day Ever
by Lady Aishiteru
Email: [email protected]
Website: http://www.geocities.com/anniemaniac_99/index.html
Disclaimer: I have never, ever kissed a llama.
REAL Disclaimer: I don't own Sailor Moon. Just this story. There. Are you happy now?
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
For the umpteenth time, Usagi stormed out of the Crown Arcade, leaving hordes of gawking onlookers in her wake. Including a stunned me, Chiba Mamoru, idiot extrordinaire, rubbing a sore spot on my face.
"Geez, Mamoru, I don't know HOW you do it," said Motoki, shaking his blond head in awe.
Despite the pain in his jaw, I smiled. "I know. I must have a gift or something."
"I mean, how DO you do it? She comes in, happy as can be, then YOU open your big yap and suddenly cutlery begins to fly!" Motoki said, waving his arms for emphasis.
"Gomen, Motoki-san," I said, looking at the remains of a triple scoop hot fudge sundae that had landed two feet away from where I was currently sitting. "Want me to help clean up?"
"Nah, that's okay," said Motoki, shaking his head. "Just go home before you cause any more damage, Casanova."
"Arigatou," I said, leaving a HUGE tip, more out of guilt than courtesy. "Ja ne!" Then I walked out the door, wondering how, in God's green earth, was I so....bad at the simple act of communication.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Usagi had been sitting in her usual spot, kicking her feet and gorging on a triple scoop, hot fudge sundae. At the same time, she was carrying on a conversation with Motoki about...well, I couldn't tell for the life of me.
She sounded like a dental patient just coming out of surgery, you know, the kind with gauze hanging out of their mouths, lips numb, trying in vain to say "Thanks a lot, doc!" but instead sputtering "Faks a wot, boc," which the dentist somehow understands. Come to think of it, with all the sugar she eats, how in the world does she avoid long, painful trips to the dentists' anyway?
"Odango!" I said as I took my customary seat next to her.
"Get wost, Wawowu-baka," she said amidst bites of ice cream.
I looked at Motoki, amazed. "And you understand all this? Geez, buddy, you must be fluent in gibberish."
Usagi paused between bites long enough to pull down her eyelid and stick out her tongue. "I said, get lost, Mamoru-baka!" she
clarified.
"Yea! She speak-a the simpl-a Eng-a-lish!" I said, using my best Italian accent.
She rolled her eyes and continued her conversation with Motoki. However, I simply REFUSED to be ignored.
"Ice cream, huh?" I asked.
"Duh, baka," she said. "You got into Azabu with that kind of intelligence?" she asked.
'Ouch.' I thought. 'She's learning.'
I rubbed my fist on the badge of my Azabu blazer, trying to look as official as possible. "I happen to be the top student. But you...you can't even pull your grades above a fifty!"
She dropped her spoon and started shaking, her hands balling into little fists.
"OOOH! KISAMAAAA!" she yelled.
"Hey, watch the language, will ya? There are children in here," I said, backing away slowly.
"I WILL NOT! AND FOR YOUR *INFORMATION* I TRY VERY HARD!" she said, angry tears forming.
'Come on, Chiba. Say something. Anything.'
"Yeah, too bad it's at being such an odango atama!" I said.
'BAKA! Anything but that!'
Her eye started twitching and it looked as if she couldn't breathe.
"Usa-chan," said her blonde friend, Minako, "daijabou?"
No response.
"Usagi, you want me to take care of this baka?" asked her brunette friend, Makoto.
"BAAAAKAAAA!" she shouted, pushing her friends away with a surprising force, though her anger had an entirely different target. Me.
She then lifted her sundae and hurled it at me. I deftly stepped aside. If there's one thing I'm good at, it's being agile and dodging flying objects.
"What's the matter? Can't hit me without a test paper?" I asked.
Then she did something completely unexpected. She walked right up to me and she socked me right in the jaw.
"Hah!" I crowed triumphantly. "You punch like a girl!"
Actually, it hurt like hell, but I would never admit it. Not to her. Not ever.
"Come on, Usagi," said Ami, who had been disturbed from her reading by the ice cream fiasco. "Let's go."
She smiled at her friend through clenched teeth. Then she turned on her heel and stormed out of the arcade, pigtails trailing behind her, the door making a whoosh sound at the speed of her angry departure. Her four friends trailed behind her, their speed having more to do with panic than anger, panic at what an angry Usagi could do to an unsuspecting Tokyo.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
I watched the frying chicken intently over its pan on my stove top, listening to the grease spatter and crackle. Some rice, Spanish style, was boiling on the back burner, as well as some vegetables next to it.
It was February 13th. According to my clock, it was exactly six hours and thirty minutes before one of the most horrible days of the year, Singles Awareness Day.
Okay, so you may know it as Valentine's day, but not for me. The first time I was old enough to be aware of the holiday, I was five years old and in the local orphanage. Every girl and boy got a valentine. Everyone except little Chiba Mamoru, who had never felt so alone since his parents had died in a car crash a few days ago.
Ever since then, each 14th of February comes an awareness of the many couples in love all around me, and the fact that I was not allowed to be in their happy little bubble. That day, every year, stung like someone rubbing salt in an open wound, as I felt the pain of my alienation, which was now more out of habit than anything else.
I've seen the way girls look at me, batting their eyes, dropping things, flirting openly. To me, they were all so obvious, each one of them wanting one thing. Was there any girl in Tokyo that wasn't so pretentious?
Finally, the timer went off, distracting me from my thoughts, signaling that it was time to eat. I took my lone piece of chicken, a generous portion of rice and vegetables and sat in front of the fireplace, just me, my chicken, and my Quantum Physics book. I read until my eyelids got heavy, then I decided to call it a night and I got ready for bed.
As I drifted off to sleep, I thought back to the incident at the arcade, wishing it had never happened. I didn't really want to be Usagi's enemy, not by a long shot. She was a ray of sunshine, making everyone around her feel just a little more special when she was around, even me, the object of countless evil eyes and stuck out tongues.
I would have given anything to have the chance to make it right, to be her friend instead of her nemesis. But even if I had an unlimited amount of time, would she ever be able to forgive me?
So I slept, greeted by the silver haired angel that meets me in my slumber, the only one to completely understand me and not push me away.
At six o'clock, the dream was broken by an annoying radio announcer.
"Ohayo, minna! Happy Valentine's Day! Hope you have someone to snuggle up against, because it's going to be cold outside!"
The idle chatter continued for a minute longer, then they played "Crazy for This Girl," by Evan and Jarod. I listened to the twins singing as I looked out of my apartment window at the patches of grass peeking through bits of snow and all the happy couples, arm in arm, off to get breakfast together.
I sighed, splashing cold water on my face in front of my bathroom sink. 'It's going to be a looooong day,' I thought.
I had no idea.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The Longest Day Ever
by Lady Aishiteru
Email: [email protected]
Website: http://www.geocities.com/anniemaniac_99/index.html
Disclaimer: I like cheese.
REAL Disclaimer: I don't own Sailor Moon. Just this story. There.
Are you happy now?
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Chapter 1 - A Failure to Communicate
I walked towards the Arcade like I do before school every weekday, for my customary cup of coffee. My nose was in my Advanced Calculus book and at least three other textbooks that were way over most people's heads. I was pretending to focus on the complicated formulas and diagrams the pages contained, the picture of your average, nonchalant, isolated genius.
In reality, my blank expression didn't reflect the contents of my mind, which was far away from my calculus book. All I could see was the happy couples walking hand in hand, all around me. Is it just me, or do all of these other couples suddenly decide to come out of the woodwork on February 14th just to torment and annoy single people like me? I know guys aren't supposed to think about that kind of stuff; romance and relationships were usually reserved for the female psyche, while men are allotted thoughts of sports, fancy cars, and the bedtime activities that come AFTER romance. Well, can I help it if all of these people in love get me thinking about those things?
I was so engrossed in my thoughts that I barely had time to look up before the Meatball Express came barreling my way, like it does every weekday. So I was almost surprised when a speeding object bumped into my midsection, completely scattering all of my textbooks, all of her things as well as my current train of thought.
"Gomen nasai!" she said, bowing rapidly, like she does everyday.
This was my cue to come in with something witty. "Looks like the Odango Express is right on time," I said.
Then she looked up at me, like she does every day, her expression changing from apologetic to angry. She rubbed her head like she had hit something hard and she grumbled, "I don't have TIME for this." She gathered up her things and sped off in the direction of Juuban middle school.
I was a little surprised. Usually, she would continue with our daily repartee, adding something about why did I have to be the person standing in her way. Could it be that Valentine's Day had her as depressed that it did me?
I pondered this as I came into the Arcade, the bells ringing on the door as I entered.
"Ohayo, Motoki," I said, greeting my friend who was wiping the counter, a faraway look in his eyes.
No response.
I waved my hand in front of his face. "Hello, Motoki?" I asked.
"Huh? Oh, hi, Mamoru," he said, snapping back into reality. "The usual?"
"Yep," I said. "So what's going on with you?"
"Oh, I was just thinking about my date with Reika tonight. I'm taking her out to this fancy Italian restaurant that she loves..." he said, as he busied himself pouring my coffee, babbling on and on, not really noticing that I wasn't paying attention.
"Uh, Motoki-san? I think my coffee's getting cold," I interrupted him.
His expression switched to that of pity. "Come on, tell me that you have someone to share this day with?" he said, even though he already knew the answer.
"Not unless you count my fish," I said, twirling the stir stick in my cup.
"Haven't you ever been totally into anyone?" he asked.
"Nope," I said. Well, not unless you counted my dream princess, and I don't think any sane person would count a figment of my imagination as a significant other.
"Hn..." he said, then he got that Look on his face. The one that said that he knew something and he had no intention of sharing it.
"You know something," I said.
"Come on! Why would *I* know anything?" he said, feigning innocence.
"Right. You're a horrible liar," I said.
"Well, it doesn't matter," he said. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you." Then he walked away, signaling that the conversation was over.
'Wow,' I thought. It wasn't like Motoki to keep secrets from me or anyone. I thought I was the mysterious one. But obviously there was a side to him that I knew nothing about.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
I wondered what Motoki's secret was during the entire school day. Fortunately, the classes were so easy for me that they required only a minimum of my attention, so none of the teachers suspected that my mind was not on the topic at hand. I pondered through lunch and even through phys ed, which made me at the same level as the other students during dodgeball, where I was normally extra agile. I was still wondering as I walked towards the Arcade.
As I came in, I saw Usagi talking excitedly with Ami, Makoto and Minako, holding a letter in her hand. Minako and Makoto looked as excited as she was, but poor Ami could not stop sneezing. 'Strange,' I thought. 'It's not the time of year for seasonal allergies.' A basket full of similar letters as well as heart shaped boxes and stuffed bunnies occupied the space next to Usagi in the booth.
"What are you so excited about, Meatball Head?" I asked, peering over Usagi's shoulder.
"None of your business, Mamoru-baka!" she said, quickly withdrawing the letter from my view, blushing profusely.
"She's got a love letter!" said Minako, sighing. "Isn't Valentine's Day great?"
"Reminds me of my old boyfriend," said Makoto.
"Ac-CHOO!" added Ami.
'Wow. She sure is popular with the guys this year,' I thought.
I couldn't resist getting my digs in. "So what makes you so popular?" I asked her.
"I...have NO idea," she said, and from the look on her face, I could tell that she was being honest. "I'm not really that pretty or anything, or very smart...so, I..uh, guess it must be a fluke or something."
'Hn.' I thought. 'She honestly has no idea that she's beautiful.'
It was then that I noticed that all three of the girls was staring right at me, as if I was expected to say something. 'Well, I shouldn't disappoint,' I said.
But looking at her, sitting there, blushing so cutely and twirling a strand of blonde hair in her long, slender fingers, I lost all powers of intelligent thought. It was as if I was seeing her for the first time, her silky blonde hair, her sky blue eyes that shone with so much life, her cute little nose and expressive mouth, and that was just her face. Her body looked...incredible, even though she was dressed quite modestly.
'Say something, moron! Don't just stand there like a fish out of water!' my conscience barked.
"I know," I said, after an awkward silence. "Why anyone would send love notes to such a meatball head is beyond me. They're probably all recipes for spaghetti or something," I finished, laughing nervously.
At this point, tears welled up, darkening her sunny disposition. Then she started crying. Not her usual hysterical tears, but real sobs of anguish. Minako patted her friend's shoulder and led her out the door, followed by the still sneezing Ami and a cross Makoto.
"Really, Mamoru," said Makoto, glaring at me disapprovingly.
"Sometimes you go too far." With this, Usagi and her entourage walked out the door.
'Bra-vo,' said my conscience, following with sarcastic clapping. I sat down and buried my head in my hands, not really caring if anyone noticed or not. Soon, I walked out of the arcade as well, my face practically hanging to the ground.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
I spent the rest of Valentine's Day like I always do. Alone. I watched a creepy science fiction flick on TV, hoping it would take my mind off of my day. But even the slimiest creatures of the far regions of the galaxy didn't have the power to take my mind off of the incident at the arcade. I was haunted by the look on Usagi's face, and the lonely tears she cried. For all of the attention she got, maybe she was lonely too. It had never occurred to me until that point that maybe people who are popular also feel alienated. I guess loneliness affects everyone, especially on Valentine's Day.
A sudden sense of urgency struck me. 'Sailor Moon must be in trouble,' I thought. I could sense her fright and anguish through our psychic link. How I became linked with her was beyond me.
But I didn't mind, not one bit, I thought as I withdrew the rose, seemingly out of thin air, that triggered my transformation. I welcomed any distraction I could get. My thoughts were far from the arcade but on the super-heroine of Tokyo and her plight. 'Probably cornered by a youma again.' I dashed from rooftop to rooftop and off into the starry night.
I was tempted to laugh at the scene that greeted my eyes as I reached my destination, the Tokyo Sweet Shoppe. All of the senshi were trapped inside of giant chocolate hearts except for Sailor Moon, who somehow managed to dodge the youma's attack. Even more ridiculous than the senshis' predicament was the youma. It looked like a giant valentine gone horribly wrong, complete with a tutu and obnoxiously lacy red boots. But the stoic Tuxedo Kamen does not laugh. He turns an eloquent phrase, throws a rose, watches Sailor Moon finish off the youma then gets the hell out of there before anyone can ask any questions.
I threw a steel tipped red rose at the youma, striking it in its ridiculous heart shaped center.
"You mock a timeless custom that is priceless to many. People in love cherish their valentines and candy," I said. Then I motioned to Sailor Moon to finish it off.
"Hai!" she said excitedly, hearts in her eyes. I watched with pleasure as Sailor Moon whipped out her tiara and finished off the youma. "Moon dust," she said.
Instantly, the confections that had held the senshi prisoner had vanished.
"Ugh!" said Jupiter. "I hope I never see a chocolate again!"
"Chocolate?" said Sailor Moon. "I want chocolate! Where is it? Why did it all DISAPPEAR? WAAAAAAAAAH!" she wailed.
"You get better each time we meet, Sailor Moon. Farewell," I said. I then turned on my heel and flew off into the night, feeling Sailor Moon's loving gaze follow me as I went. I wonder if she'd feel the same way about me if she knew that underneath the mask was an introverted, seemingly arrogant, scared high school boy. I'd bet that she'd see her hero in a whole different light.
I de-transformed as I arrived at my apartment and slipped under the covers, the hour being way past midnight. I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Ohayo, minna! Happy Valentine's Day! Hope you have someone to snuggle up against, because it's going to be cold outside!"
"Weird. They must be playing yesterday's tape," I thought as I heard "Crazy for this Girl" playing on my alarm clock radio. I splashed cold water on my face, exhausted from lack of sleep. Out of curiosity, I looked out the window. The patchy snow, the happy couples...it was exactly the same as the previous day. Panicking, I looked at my calendar, praying that my hunch was wrong.
Instead, the calendar confirmed my worst fears. It was February 14th. Again.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
by Lady Aishiteru
Email: [email protected]
Website: http://www.geocities.com/anniemaniac_99/index.html
Disclaimer: I have never, ever kissed a llama.
REAL Disclaimer: I don't own Sailor Moon. Just this story. There. Are you happy now?
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
For the umpteenth time, Usagi stormed out of the Crown Arcade, leaving hordes of gawking onlookers in her wake. Including a stunned me, Chiba Mamoru, idiot extrordinaire, rubbing a sore spot on my face.
"Geez, Mamoru, I don't know HOW you do it," said Motoki, shaking his blond head in awe.
Despite the pain in his jaw, I smiled. "I know. I must have a gift or something."
"I mean, how DO you do it? She comes in, happy as can be, then YOU open your big yap and suddenly cutlery begins to fly!" Motoki said, waving his arms for emphasis.
"Gomen, Motoki-san," I said, looking at the remains of a triple scoop hot fudge sundae that had landed two feet away from where I was currently sitting. "Want me to help clean up?"
"Nah, that's okay," said Motoki, shaking his head. "Just go home before you cause any more damage, Casanova."
"Arigatou," I said, leaving a HUGE tip, more out of guilt than courtesy. "Ja ne!" Then I walked out the door, wondering how, in God's green earth, was I so....bad at the simple act of communication.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Usagi had been sitting in her usual spot, kicking her feet and gorging on a triple scoop, hot fudge sundae. At the same time, she was carrying on a conversation with Motoki about...well, I couldn't tell for the life of me.
She sounded like a dental patient just coming out of surgery, you know, the kind with gauze hanging out of their mouths, lips numb, trying in vain to say "Thanks a lot, doc!" but instead sputtering "Faks a wot, boc," which the dentist somehow understands. Come to think of it, with all the sugar she eats, how in the world does she avoid long, painful trips to the dentists' anyway?
"Odango!" I said as I took my customary seat next to her.
"Get wost, Wawowu-baka," she said amidst bites of ice cream.
I looked at Motoki, amazed. "And you understand all this? Geez, buddy, you must be fluent in gibberish."
Usagi paused between bites long enough to pull down her eyelid and stick out her tongue. "I said, get lost, Mamoru-baka!" she
clarified.
"Yea! She speak-a the simpl-a Eng-a-lish!" I said, using my best Italian accent.
She rolled her eyes and continued her conversation with Motoki. However, I simply REFUSED to be ignored.
"Ice cream, huh?" I asked.
"Duh, baka," she said. "You got into Azabu with that kind of intelligence?" she asked.
'Ouch.' I thought. 'She's learning.'
I rubbed my fist on the badge of my Azabu blazer, trying to look as official as possible. "I happen to be the top student. But you...you can't even pull your grades above a fifty!"
She dropped her spoon and started shaking, her hands balling into little fists.
"OOOH! KISAMAAAA!" she yelled.
"Hey, watch the language, will ya? There are children in here," I said, backing away slowly.
"I WILL NOT! AND FOR YOUR *INFORMATION* I TRY VERY HARD!" she said, angry tears forming.
'Come on, Chiba. Say something. Anything.'
"Yeah, too bad it's at being such an odango atama!" I said.
'BAKA! Anything but that!'
Her eye started twitching and it looked as if she couldn't breathe.
"Usa-chan," said her blonde friend, Minako, "daijabou?"
No response.
"Usagi, you want me to take care of this baka?" asked her brunette friend, Makoto.
"BAAAAKAAAA!" she shouted, pushing her friends away with a surprising force, though her anger had an entirely different target. Me.
She then lifted her sundae and hurled it at me. I deftly stepped aside. If there's one thing I'm good at, it's being agile and dodging flying objects.
"What's the matter? Can't hit me without a test paper?" I asked.
Then she did something completely unexpected. She walked right up to me and she socked me right in the jaw.
"Hah!" I crowed triumphantly. "You punch like a girl!"
Actually, it hurt like hell, but I would never admit it. Not to her. Not ever.
"Come on, Usagi," said Ami, who had been disturbed from her reading by the ice cream fiasco. "Let's go."
She smiled at her friend through clenched teeth. Then she turned on her heel and stormed out of the arcade, pigtails trailing behind her, the door making a whoosh sound at the speed of her angry departure. Her four friends trailed behind her, their speed having more to do with panic than anger, panic at what an angry Usagi could do to an unsuspecting Tokyo.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
I watched the frying chicken intently over its pan on my stove top, listening to the grease spatter and crackle. Some rice, Spanish style, was boiling on the back burner, as well as some vegetables next to it.
It was February 13th. According to my clock, it was exactly six hours and thirty minutes before one of the most horrible days of the year, Singles Awareness Day.
Okay, so you may know it as Valentine's day, but not for me. The first time I was old enough to be aware of the holiday, I was five years old and in the local orphanage. Every girl and boy got a valentine. Everyone except little Chiba Mamoru, who had never felt so alone since his parents had died in a car crash a few days ago.
Ever since then, each 14th of February comes an awareness of the many couples in love all around me, and the fact that I was not allowed to be in their happy little bubble. That day, every year, stung like someone rubbing salt in an open wound, as I felt the pain of my alienation, which was now more out of habit than anything else.
I've seen the way girls look at me, batting their eyes, dropping things, flirting openly. To me, they were all so obvious, each one of them wanting one thing. Was there any girl in Tokyo that wasn't so pretentious?
Finally, the timer went off, distracting me from my thoughts, signaling that it was time to eat. I took my lone piece of chicken, a generous portion of rice and vegetables and sat in front of the fireplace, just me, my chicken, and my Quantum Physics book. I read until my eyelids got heavy, then I decided to call it a night and I got ready for bed.
As I drifted off to sleep, I thought back to the incident at the arcade, wishing it had never happened. I didn't really want to be Usagi's enemy, not by a long shot. She was a ray of sunshine, making everyone around her feel just a little more special when she was around, even me, the object of countless evil eyes and stuck out tongues.
I would have given anything to have the chance to make it right, to be her friend instead of her nemesis. But even if I had an unlimited amount of time, would she ever be able to forgive me?
So I slept, greeted by the silver haired angel that meets me in my slumber, the only one to completely understand me and not push me away.
At six o'clock, the dream was broken by an annoying radio announcer.
"Ohayo, minna! Happy Valentine's Day! Hope you have someone to snuggle up against, because it's going to be cold outside!"
The idle chatter continued for a minute longer, then they played "Crazy for This Girl," by Evan and Jarod. I listened to the twins singing as I looked out of my apartment window at the patches of grass peeking through bits of snow and all the happy couples, arm in arm, off to get breakfast together.
I sighed, splashing cold water on my face in front of my bathroom sink. 'It's going to be a looooong day,' I thought.
I had no idea.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The Longest Day Ever
by Lady Aishiteru
Email: [email protected]
Website: http://www.geocities.com/anniemaniac_99/index.html
Disclaimer: I like cheese.
REAL Disclaimer: I don't own Sailor Moon. Just this story. There.
Are you happy now?
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Chapter 1 - A Failure to Communicate
I walked towards the Arcade like I do before school every weekday, for my customary cup of coffee. My nose was in my Advanced Calculus book and at least three other textbooks that were way over most people's heads. I was pretending to focus on the complicated formulas and diagrams the pages contained, the picture of your average, nonchalant, isolated genius.
In reality, my blank expression didn't reflect the contents of my mind, which was far away from my calculus book. All I could see was the happy couples walking hand in hand, all around me. Is it just me, or do all of these other couples suddenly decide to come out of the woodwork on February 14th just to torment and annoy single people like me? I know guys aren't supposed to think about that kind of stuff; romance and relationships were usually reserved for the female psyche, while men are allotted thoughts of sports, fancy cars, and the bedtime activities that come AFTER romance. Well, can I help it if all of these people in love get me thinking about those things?
I was so engrossed in my thoughts that I barely had time to look up before the Meatball Express came barreling my way, like it does every weekday. So I was almost surprised when a speeding object bumped into my midsection, completely scattering all of my textbooks, all of her things as well as my current train of thought.
"Gomen nasai!" she said, bowing rapidly, like she does everyday.
This was my cue to come in with something witty. "Looks like the Odango Express is right on time," I said.
Then she looked up at me, like she does every day, her expression changing from apologetic to angry. She rubbed her head like she had hit something hard and she grumbled, "I don't have TIME for this." She gathered up her things and sped off in the direction of Juuban middle school.
I was a little surprised. Usually, she would continue with our daily repartee, adding something about why did I have to be the person standing in her way. Could it be that Valentine's Day had her as depressed that it did me?
I pondered this as I came into the Arcade, the bells ringing on the door as I entered.
"Ohayo, Motoki," I said, greeting my friend who was wiping the counter, a faraway look in his eyes.
No response.
I waved my hand in front of his face. "Hello, Motoki?" I asked.
"Huh? Oh, hi, Mamoru," he said, snapping back into reality. "The usual?"
"Yep," I said. "So what's going on with you?"
"Oh, I was just thinking about my date with Reika tonight. I'm taking her out to this fancy Italian restaurant that she loves..." he said, as he busied himself pouring my coffee, babbling on and on, not really noticing that I wasn't paying attention.
"Uh, Motoki-san? I think my coffee's getting cold," I interrupted him.
His expression switched to that of pity. "Come on, tell me that you have someone to share this day with?" he said, even though he already knew the answer.
"Not unless you count my fish," I said, twirling the stir stick in my cup.
"Haven't you ever been totally into anyone?" he asked.
"Nope," I said. Well, not unless you counted my dream princess, and I don't think any sane person would count a figment of my imagination as a significant other.
"Hn..." he said, then he got that Look on his face. The one that said that he knew something and he had no intention of sharing it.
"You know something," I said.
"Come on! Why would *I* know anything?" he said, feigning innocence.
"Right. You're a horrible liar," I said.
"Well, it doesn't matter," he said. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you." Then he walked away, signaling that the conversation was over.
'Wow,' I thought. It wasn't like Motoki to keep secrets from me or anyone. I thought I was the mysterious one. But obviously there was a side to him that I knew nothing about.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
I wondered what Motoki's secret was during the entire school day. Fortunately, the classes were so easy for me that they required only a minimum of my attention, so none of the teachers suspected that my mind was not on the topic at hand. I pondered through lunch and even through phys ed, which made me at the same level as the other students during dodgeball, where I was normally extra agile. I was still wondering as I walked towards the Arcade.
As I came in, I saw Usagi talking excitedly with Ami, Makoto and Minako, holding a letter in her hand. Minako and Makoto looked as excited as she was, but poor Ami could not stop sneezing. 'Strange,' I thought. 'It's not the time of year for seasonal allergies.' A basket full of similar letters as well as heart shaped boxes and stuffed bunnies occupied the space next to Usagi in the booth.
"What are you so excited about, Meatball Head?" I asked, peering over Usagi's shoulder.
"None of your business, Mamoru-baka!" she said, quickly withdrawing the letter from my view, blushing profusely.
"She's got a love letter!" said Minako, sighing. "Isn't Valentine's Day great?"
"Reminds me of my old boyfriend," said Makoto.
"Ac-CHOO!" added Ami.
'Wow. She sure is popular with the guys this year,' I thought.
I couldn't resist getting my digs in. "So what makes you so popular?" I asked her.
"I...have NO idea," she said, and from the look on her face, I could tell that she was being honest. "I'm not really that pretty or anything, or very smart...so, I..uh, guess it must be a fluke or something."
'Hn.' I thought. 'She honestly has no idea that she's beautiful.'
It was then that I noticed that all three of the girls was staring right at me, as if I was expected to say something. 'Well, I shouldn't disappoint,' I said.
But looking at her, sitting there, blushing so cutely and twirling a strand of blonde hair in her long, slender fingers, I lost all powers of intelligent thought. It was as if I was seeing her for the first time, her silky blonde hair, her sky blue eyes that shone with so much life, her cute little nose and expressive mouth, and that was just her face. Her body looked...incredible, even though she was dressed quite modestly.
'Say something, moron! Don't just stand there like a fish out of water!' my conscience barked.
"I know," I said, after an awkward silence. "Why anyone would send love notes to such a meatball head is beyond me. They're probably all recipes for spaghetti or something," I finished, laughing nervously.
At this point, tears welled up, darkening her sunny disposition. Then she started crying. Not her usual hysterical tears, but real sobs of anguish. Minako patted her friend's shoulder and led her out the door, followed by the still sneezing Ami and a cross Makoto.
"Really, Mamoru," said Makoto, glaring at me disapprovingly.
"Sometimes you go too far." With this, Usagi and her entourage walked out the door.
'Bra-vo,' said my conscience, following with sarcastic clapping. I sat down and buried my head in my hands, not really caring if anyone noticed or not. Soon, I walked out of the arcade as well, my face practically hanging to the ground.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
I spent the rest of Valentine's Day like I always do. Alone. I watched a creepy science fiction flick on TV, hoping it would take my mind off of my day. But even the slimiest creatures of the far regions of the galaxy didn't have the power to take my mind off of the incident at the arcade. I was haunted by the look on Usagi's face, and the lonely tears she cried. For all of the attention she got, maybe she was lonely too. It had never occurred to me until that point that maybe people who are popular also feel alienated. I guess loneliness affects everyone, especially on Valentine's Day.
A sudden sense of urgency struck me. 'Sailor Moon must be in trouble,' I thought. I could sense her fright and anguish through our psychic link. How I became linked with her was beyond me.
But I didn't mind, not one bit, I thought as I withdrew the rose, seemingly out of thin air, that triggered my transformation. I welcomed any distraction I could get. My thoughts were far from the arcade but on the super-heroine of Tokyo and her plight. 'Probably cornered by a youma again.' I dashed from rooftop to rooftop and off into the starry night.
I was tempted to laugh at the scene that greeted my eyes as I reached my destination, the Tokyo Sweet Shoppe. All of the senshi were trapped inside of giant chocolate hearts except for Sailor Moon, who somehow managed to dodge the youma's attack. Even more ridiculous than the senshis' predicament was the youma. It looked like a giant valentine gone horribly wrong, complete with a tutu and obnoxiously lacy red boots. But the stoic Tuxedo Kamen does not laugh. He turns an eloquent phrase, throws a rose, watches Sailor Moon finish off the youma then gets the hell out of there before anyone can ask any questions.
I threw a steel tipped red rose at the youma, striking it in its ridiculous heart shaped center.
"You mock a timeless custom that is priceless to many. People in love cherish their valentines and candy," I said. Then I motioned to Sailor Moon to finish it off.
"Hai!" she said excitedly, hearts in her eyes. I watched with pleasure as Sailor Moon whipped out her tiara and finished off the youma. "Moon dust," she said.
Instantly, the confections that had held the senshi prisoner had vanished.
"Ugh!" said Jupiter. "I hope I never see a chocolate again!"
"Chocolate?" said Sailor Moon. "I want chocolate! Where is it? Why did it all DISAPPEAR? WAAAAAAAAAH!" she wailed.
"You get better each time we meet, Sailor Moon. Farewell," I said. I then turned on my heel and flew off into the night, feeling Sailor Moon's loving gaze follow me as I went. I wonder if she'd feel the same way about me if she knew that underneath the mask was an introverted, seemingly arrogant, scared high school boy. I'd bet that she'd see her hero in a whole different light.
I de-transformed as I arrived at my apartment and slipped under the covers, the hour being way past midnight. I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Ohayo, minna! Happy Valentine's Day! Hope you have someone to snuggle up against, because it's going to be cold outside!"
"Weird. They must be playing yesterday's tape," I thought as I heard "Crazy for this Girl" playing on my alarm clock radio. I splashed cold water on my face, exhausted from lack of sleep. Out of curiosity, I looked out the window. The patchy snow, the happy couples...it was exactly the same as the previous day. Panicking, I looked at my calendar, praying that my hunch was wrong.
Instead, the calendar confirmed my worst fears. It was February 14th. Again.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*