Hope for the Heart

As promised, here's the second and final instalment of my Christmas/New Year story this/last year! Sorry it's a bit late--I was too distracted by the good food, wine, and music last night. Needless to say, I had a fantastic New Year's Eve, and I hope you did too! Happy New Year, and may 2009 be full of exciting adventures and discoveries!

Note on the story: I have tried to take a different approach this year by incorporating some of the Japanese traditions and customs that are associated with Christmas and the New Year, and it's as much a glimpse into Japanese society as it is into Mamoru's own heart. Also, as you may have noticed, this story focuses primarily on Mamoru's thoughts and feelings. I have purposely omitted Usagi's side of the story so that what goes on in her mind and life is as much of an enigma to Mamoru as it is to you.

Angel, I know you wanted a one-shot (which probably meant relatively short?) story for Christmas, and I have butchered your wishes to serve my verbose and tardy needs. Regardless, I hope you'll enjoy the second half of your (belated) present, and return the favour by finally making that trip to Sydney. :D

He waited for her outside the school gates. Just after two in the afternoon, Usagi, surrounded by her friends, skipped out into the school grounds. She twirled around once, twice, and then let out a string of words incomprehensible to Mamoru. Looking at the girls who walked with her, Mamoru recognised the quiet Ami and the tomboyish Makoto who, despite having attended Juuban Middle School for almost a year, still wore the brown and white uniform of her old school. Both her friends were smiling, and Makoto said something that elicited a laugh from Usagi. Mamoru's heart sped up at the sound, and his grip tightened on the package he had been holding onto for the past hour. A group of girls glanced his way and giggled among themselves as they passed him, and Mamoru felt a pool of uneasiness well in his stomach. He could see himself from an objective perspective as a voyeur of sorts, taking so many glimpses into the private aspects of Usagi's life during the last few days. He almost turned to walk away right then, but Usagi had caught sight of him, her own expression suddenly grim. Her friends noticed the change in her mood, and their gaze followed hers until they, too, noticed him. Mamoru swallowed and started making his way towards them, their encounter now inevitable.

"Good afternoon, ladies," he said with a bow when they were about a metre away.

"Good afternoon, Mamoru-san," they greeted him in unison. The silence that followed made Mamoru question, yet again, his decision to visit her—at her school no less—and he could see from her fidgeting that she was clearly uncomfortable with his presence.

It was Ami, of all people, who spoke first. "Usagi-chan, we'll be heading off now. Don't forget to be at the shrine by four." The usually shy girl gave Mamoru another bow, and gestured towards Makoto. The taller girl, for some reason, was hesitant to leave; only when Usagi gave her a small nod did Makoto resign and move to join Ami, though not before shooting Mamoru a scathing look. Mamoru gulped; the message was clear—whatever further distress Mamoru was to cause Usagi, her friends would happily inflict back on him in full.

When Usagi's friends had disappeared from their sight, Mamoru turned to the girl, his well-rehearsed apology at the tip of his tongue.

She spoke before he had a chance to open his mouth. "I didn't think you would show up in person and continue your lecture about changing my shallow ways, but here you are."

He hadn't thought Usagi capable of making such a remark, but then again, two days earlier, he wouldn't have believed himself possible of insulting the girl to such extremes. He deserved her suspicion and the polite distance she was keeping, but it still hurt.

"Usagi, I—"

"You know what," she interrupted, "just forget it. I don't want to hear it. Congratulations, you've won the ultimate jerk award for 2008." Her voice was shaky with tears, but she still managed to give him a nod, and say, "Have a good Christmas, Mamoru-san."

"Wait," he said, when she had half turned away. His urgent tone stopped her and he lowered his voice, though it wasn't any less sincere. "Please, Usagi, just hear me out for a minute." He wondered what kind of impression he was giving her, his body tense, his eyes silently pleading, and was relieved when something in her expression softened. When she looked at him again, Mamoru saw a mixture of resignation and defiance that took his breath away.

"Let's go take a walk then," Usagi said, trying to keep her tone light. "I was lucky enough not to get detention today and I don't want to waste it hanging around school!"

He nodded, and they both turned towards the school gates. Although Mamoru appreciated Usagi's consideration, he felt strangely nervous at their proximity as they walked side by side. Remembering the small package he was clutching—that was, after all, the primary reason for this confrontation—Mamoru stopped in his tracks and gave it to the girl.

"One of your friends wanted me to pass this to you," Mamoru said, trying to ignore the disappointment that followed her initial surprise. Had she thought it was a gift from him? Not wanting to cause any more misunderstandings, he added, "I didn't catch his name, but I know the two of you have been acquainted."

She thanked him and took the package from him. To his surprise, she tucked it away into her bag; he had expected the girl to open her present in excitement. Was she being so restrained because of his harsh words from the day before? Or did she simply want to savour the unwrapping and the discovery of the contents in private, away from his prying eyes? As Mamoru pondered the possibilities, Usagi walked on, leaving him no choice but to follow.

They had long left the school grounds and were making their way through some of the quieter streets of Azabu Juuban. All too aware of the unresolved animosity between them, Mamoru stopped once more, this time speaking in a soft voice.

"I know these words will probably mean very little to you, but I am really very sorry for what I said yesterday." He paused and looked into those piercing blue eyes that were so intensely focused on him. "It was wrong of me, to have made so many unfair accusations. I know that our opinions about a great deal of things may be very different, but that gave me no right to dismiss yours. Please, Usagi, I hope you will accept my apology."

His breathing had become uneven, and he was overwhelmed with dread as he waited for her response. Mamoru had never been one to openly admit his mistakes, and now that he had, in the most heartfelt manner, he was afraid that Usagi would continue to shun him, regardless of his attempt.

But then, he had made the mistake of forgetting that the Usagi standing before him was the same person who approached a homeless stranger and offered him every last yen in her purse, the same person who had given Mamoru the only thoughtful present he had received for as long as he could remember. And that Usagi placed her hands on his, her skin surprisingly cold. Startled, Mamoru searched her eyes, only to find that they were shining with tears.

"It's okay, Mamoru-san," she said, trembling. "You gave me quite a bit to think about, to learn about."

Here she was, thanking him when he was the one who had so ruthlessly stamped all over her heart. "No, you didn't deserve to be on the receiving end of my bitter ranting." The guilt welled in him again, and Mamoru enclosed her hands with his own, trying to give her what little warmth he could. "You are an amazing person, Usagi. I only wish I could hope and feel and love as you do, but…" He released her hands and looked away, knowing he had already said too much. "I'm the one who should be learning from you. I know I've made you feel otherwise, and for that, I'm truly sorry."

He had apologised, had said more than he intended, but for some reason, he didn't want to leave. And somehow, the small girl he had underestimated several times before seemed to sense this, and reached out to him again.

"Everyone can hope, and feel, and love. It's really not that difficult. The most important thing is to try your best, and keep trying, even if you fail."

"I've failed so many times that I don't want to try anymore." His admission surprised them both, and he shook his head. Some part of him wanted to tell her more, wanted to reveal his past to her, whether for forgiveness or understanding, he did not know. But the thought of sharing such a secret with her was incomprehensible, and Mamoru could only back away. "I really should go, Usagi. I'm sorry."

Her concerned expression betrayed her feelings, but he had no idea what she was thinking. She tried to smile, and though it was tinged with sadness, the small curling of her lips made him ache in the most beautiful, exquisite way.

"Will I be seeing you before next year?"

"I don't know," Mamoru replied honestly. He wasn't sure how much more of these encounters he could take. "I have quite a bit of work to do."

She nodded, giving him a look that was almost remorseful. A thought seemed to strike her then, and Usagi asked, "Mamoru-san, do you celebrate the New Year?"

He considered her for a long moment, weighing his options. He wanted to tell her how the New Year was just another arbitrary date set by mankind to attach meaning to their lives, but something stopped him. Usagi was not interested in the sociocultural developments underlying a particular holiday; she only wanted to know what it personally meant to him. Last time he had reprimanded her when she was simply trying to share the Christmas spirit; this time, however painful, it was only fair for him to give her the truth. "I would do more than just celebrate it, if I had a family to share it with."

And with that, he walked away, leaving them both wondering about the implications of what he had just said.

The next few days passed without too much incident. As the shops and schools around him closed to prepare for the upcoming oshougatsu—the New Year—the most important holiday of the year, Mamoru put aside his feelings and poured his energy into researching and writing a proposal for his independent project next year. He wanted to focus on the causes behind the irregularities of pulmonary circulation, the blood flow between the heart and lungs where the exchange of oxygen occurred. The topic was a relatively popular one, and Mamoru spent his time looking for a way to approach the project from a fresh perspective. With all his efforts spent on his work, Mamoru gave himself no room to think about what had transpired between Usagi and himself.

He was flipping through an article detailing the causes and effects of amniotic fluid embolism and was starting to see the something different that he could use for his project, when he heard the unfamiliar sound of the doorbell ring. For all the years he had lived in his apartment, he never had an unannounced visitor waiting outside his door—the few people who were invited on the rare occasions always announced themselves through the intercom on the exterior of his apartment building. He rose to his feet and made his way to the door—perhaps it was one of his neighbours.

The last person he expected to see when he opened the door was Usagi, dressed in her winter school uniform, her cheeks flushed from her walk.

"Odango? What are you doing here?"

She looked as nervous and uncertain as he felt, but that didn't keep her from saying the polite phrase the Japanese used whenever they visited another's home. "Please excuse me for intruding." Her voice was soft, and Mamoru could hear the tremors. Not knowing what else to do, he gestured for Usagi to enter.

"Please, come in."

She gave him a brief smile, then quietly stepped inside, removing her shoes at the entrance. As Mamoru watched her fumble with the clasps, the reality of the situation finally dawned upon him: Usagi, the one person he had tried to avoid both physically and mentally for the past week, was right here, in the privacy of his own apartment. He suddenly felt embarrassed and shy, not knowing what she would think of his home, and quickly led her to the living room.

"Would you like some tea?" he asked when she had seated herself on the only couch in the room. She had tried to keep her eyes on him, but Mamoru noticed the drifting gaze as the girl took in her surroundings.

"Thank you, but no." The rejection, however small, made Mamoru even more uneasy. He should have been glad that she was polite enough to say no—after all, he wasn't sure whether he had any teacups fit for his guests—but the clenching of his heart told him otherwise.

Usagi, ever more perceptive by the minute, sensed his hurt immediately. "I actually have to go very soon," she said quickly, "but I wanted to drop by first." From her expression, Mamoru realised that she had something important to say, and though her pause made it difficult for him to breathe, he waited patiently for her to continue. "I know we both said some nasty things to each other last week, and I'm hoping we can have a fresh start. I've already asked my parents, and we're having osechi tonight, so if you're not too busy…"

She trailed off without explicitly forming her invitation. But Mamoru had understood well enough, and his silence was more due to his spinning mind as he realised the significance of her words. He could see why Usagi would want to put the unpleasant things behind them as the year drew to a close, but this was more than just a friendly request. Oshougatsu was the most important celebration not simply because it marks the New Year, but because it was to be spent with one's family, the heart of one's life. And the osechi, the traditional Japanese food that was prepared for and consumed only during the New Year period, was what would bring the families together, year after year, through laughter and tears. Mamoru could not remember having proper osechi for the twelve years after his accident and had never expected to do more than buy a processed, packaged imitation from the local convenience store, but here was Usagi, asking him to join her family, her heart.

His silence must have dragged on for longer than he had thought, for Usagi let out an unnatural laugh, her lips strained into a smile. "I'm really a baka, to think that you wouldn't have anything better to do on New Year's Eve! I'm sorry for barging in like that, Mamoru-san—"

"I would be honoured to join you and your family, if you would have me." Mamoru could see now, only too clearly, how he could not afford to allow any more doubt to enter Usagi's heart. She was infinitely more beautiful and giving that he had given her credit for, and Mamoru resolved to pay back her kindness in every way he knew. "And if you have some time to spare as well, I would like to take you somewhere, too."

She was surprised by this, but the girl hid her emotions well. "Dinner starts at seven," she said, and glanced at her watch. It was almost four—plenty of time, for what he had in mind.

As they made their way to the entrance where they put on their shoes, Mamoru felt the silent question linger between them. He knew Usagi was curious as to where they were going, but she was too polite to ask. The realisation warmed him, even as his next words coated another layer of ice around his bruised heart.

"I'm going to take you to my family."

Their graves were as clean as he had left them a few weeks ago. The flowers, however, had been taken away by the caretaker—Mamoru placed the fresh lilies gently against the gravestone, and closed his eyes to send a silent prayer. He felt Usagi do the same beside him, and this gesture, more than anything else, freed the tears that had wanted to spill for the last hour. But he remained quiet and dignified, and poured his love wholeheartedly to the only family he had.

When he was finished, Mamoru wordlessly got up to his feet and headed to the direction of his car. Usagi followed him, giving him the distance she knew he needed. If she had seen the telltale trails on his face, she didn't show it, and the only sound she made was a quiet murmur of thanks when he opened the door to his car for her.

The drive to the Tsukino residence was in silence. Putting on some music would belittle his sentiments and do nothing to lift the heavy atmosphere, and to his relief, Mamoru found that Usagi was more than understanding. Night had fallen by the time he parked outside Usagi's house, and though Mamoru turned off the engine, neither made a move to leave the car. Even from the outside Mamoru could see the happiness from the brightly lit house, and knew that Usagi's home had no room for his sorrow. He leaned back on his seat, and started to speak.

"My parents died when I was eight." His voice wavered as he spoke of his past for the first time in twelve years. "We went driving somewhere. I don't know where we were supposed to go. We were hit by another driver—I was told that he was speeding. Father lost control of the car, and we tumbled off the road, down a small cliff. Father died instantly; mother could have been saved, but her condition was worsening by the minute and the doctors couldn't act quickly enough to save her brain, so they gave up. I had severe head injuries and lost my memory. They told me my name, my date of birth, but those facts meant little to me. I was raised in an orphanage, and didn't go to school until the last of my elementary years. I worked hard during middle school and high school, and passed the exams for med school. I wanted to be a doctor, a surgeon, and save mothers and fathers, daughters and sons."

He expected to see pity and horror on her face, but her expression was one of terrible sadness that matched his own. Then, through her watery eyes, Usagi smiled, and said, "You will be a brilliant doctor, Mamoru-san."

And there it was, that special something about her. His background and circumstances, though she cared about and emphasised with, meant nothing to her—all that mattered to the bright-eyed angel was the present, and more importantly, the future. She had her secrets and her enigmas, but of this much, he was sure: for some inexplicable reason, she wanted him to be a part of that beautiful future.

He returned her smile, a sincere movement that reached his eyes, and said, "Shall we go in?"

From the instant Usagi's mother greeted him, Mamoru saw the resemblance. Mrs Tsukino introduced herself as Ikuko, and warm-heartedly showed Mamoru to the living room. Usagi's father, on the hand, was less cordial about Mamoru's presence—Mamoru had a feeling that Mr Tsukino had been talked into having Mamoru over for osechi by the two ladies of the household. Usagi's brother was a different matter entirely. Although Mamoru had heard countless stories about Shingo, all of Usagi's attempts had not managed to capture the cheeky curiosity that was plastered over the boy's features. Mamoru knew before the boy had spoken that he was going to be a handful.

"Are you dating my baka-sister?" was the first question Shingo asked. Usagi turned bright red, and was about to release a string of who-knows-what when Mamoru intervened.

"Little boys should not ask grown-up questions," Mamoru said mildly, causing Usagi to look at him in surprise, and Shingo to narrow his eyes in suspicion.

"I'm not a little boy," Usagi's brother said, though he was a good head shorter than his sister. "I'm going to be twelve next year, you know. Besides, you're probably ancient."

"I might be ancient," Mamoru replied, "but I bet I can still beat you in Tekkan." Only a few weeks ago Usagi had dashed into the arcade, complaining about how Shingo liked to hog the game. The words seemed to have an instant effect, and Shingo grinned.

"I'm going to kick your ass, mister!"

They went to play their game, and as Mamoru predicted, he beat the boy every round. When Shingo threw up his hands in frustration and defeat, Mamoru could sense the awe from both the boy and his older sister. He chuckled to himself—Mamoru had learnt that in this time and age, respect was earned not by age or status, but by the ability to thrash another in a video game.

"Well, I guess that means you're not as grown-up as you thought," Mamoru said to Shingo, who scrunched up his face.

"Fine, but I beat Usagi-baka all the time," Shingo retorted, "so she's not any more grown-up either!"

Mamoru took a look at the girl, the familiar indignant expression making him grin. "I suppose you're right about that, Shingo-kun."

As Usagi growled at them, the two boys burst into laughter. The sound was so hearty that a smile sneaked its way onto Usagi's features, until she added her silver tinkling to the merriness.

"I'm glad to see you children are having so much fun," Ikuko said from the doorway of the living room. "Shingo-kun, can you please show Mamoru-san to the dining room? Usagi-chan, come help set the table."

As Shingo led Mamoru to the dining room, the boy was clearly still excited from their earlier games, and asked Mamoru to share the secrets of his playing. Smiling at the enthusiasm, Mamoru promised to show Shingo at a later date.

Dinner itself was something Mamoru would remember for the rest of his life. Although he was well-versed in the academic field, he had never seen the assortment of dishes that made up this particular osechi that was served in a special box with several compartments, called the jubako. The same Usagi he mocked on a daily basis patiently pointed to all the different foods and explained the significance to Mamoru. Some he was vaguely aware of and had heard about, others he never knew existed. But however familiar Usagi was with the food, she made sure her explanations were elaborate and descriptive, without leaving out a single detail.

"See the kamaboko here?" she would say, pointing to the broiled fish paste that was alternately arranged in slices of red and white. "That's supposed to look like the rising sun of Japan. The red and white is supposed to stand for good luck."

She then pointed to a kind of seaweed that was rather plain, and with which Mamoru was familiar. "That's konbu. It's rather ordinary, but it almost sounds like yorokobu!" Mamoru's eyes widened in recognition—he had never made the associated between the name of the seaweed and the Japanese word for 'joy'.

"And the kuromame," Usagi continued, picking up a black soybean with her chopsticks. "Why don't you guess what that stands for?"

Mamoru thought for a moment. "Because mame also means 'health'?"

The smile she gave him made his heart skip a beat. "Yup! You're really quick!" She popped the soybean into her mouth, and Mamoru followed suit. The taste was unlike anything he had experienced before—it was sweet, but not sickening so, and the soybean practically melted in his mouth. He looked up at Ikuko, once again feeling grateful for her hospitality.

"This is truly amazing, Tsukino-san," he said. The older woman nodded, smiling.

"It is absolutely my pleasure, Mamoru-san."

As the dinner progressed, the members of the Tsukino family recalled an interesting tidbit from work or school that happened throughout the year. They made sure to include Mamoru in their conversations, always giving him the context of the situations they were referring to. Listening to them talk, Mamoru saw how the smallest things, however insignificant they may have seemed, could be thought of as a treasured memory with the right mindset. Little by little, his own heart opened to the loving atmosphere that enveloped him, and when called upon, Mamoru shared some of his own experiences that he considered special in a particular way. His hosts eagerly listened to his recollections and explanations, genuinely interested in what he had to say.

The dinner went on for longer than Mamoru would have thought possible—the food started disappearing at a steady rate, until the intricate decorations on the bottom of each jubako compartment finally revealed themselves. Feeling more satisfied and relaxed than he had in a long time, Mamoru glanced at Usagi, a smile on his lips. To his delight, he found that she was sneaking a look at him at the same time. The girl quickly lowered her gaze at first, but Mamoru's patience was rewarded when she looked up at him again, her smile shy, her eyes the colour of the summer sky. Something passed between them, and in that moment, Mamoru finally understood the reason behind his arrogant baiting in the arcade last week, behind the hour he spent waiting for her to finish school and deliver something with which he had no association, behind the wordless invitation into his own private world, where her foreign yet familiar presence remained with him as he paid his respects to his deceased parents: he wanted more than the sporadic, often unfriendly interactions that made up their relationship. Chiba Mamoru wanted, more than anything in the world, to share this day, and all following days, with the angel who sat next to him.

Ikuko took that moment to leave the table, but that treasured feeling of conviction, of knowing how special and magical his world had become, did not leave him. When Usagi's mother re-entered the room, she brought with her a tray laden with bowls. Mamoru was given the buckwheat noodles, and he waited patiently for Usagi to reveal the symbolism behind the particular dish.

"This is called toshikoshi soba," Usagi said. By now they had slipped into the ritual of having Mamoru guess the significance of the name, and they both smiled at his immediate comprehension.

"Year-crossing soba," Mamoru said. "Do they represent longevity in the new year?"

Usagi nodded, clearly pleased with his response. "That's right! The noodles are long, and each strand stands for your energy and health. Plus, you can't go wrong with soba!"

They all laughed and proceeded with their meal. Like the rest of the osechi Mamoru had been served, the soba was homemade, the taste and texture heavenly in his mouth. Mamoru had never been comfortable with the custom of slurping one's noodles in order to show appreciation for the meal, but the cheery sounds that erupted around him made it difficult for him not to join in. All his uneasiness had been soothed throughout the evening, and Mamoru felt truly alive, the warmth filling every last capillary in his body.

He was surprised to learn how quickly the time had passed when Usagi's father stood up after the table was cleared. "It was lovely to have you join us tonight, Mamoru," Kenji said, his tone and smile far more amiable than when they had first met. "My wife and I will now prepare ourselves for hatsumoude, so please excuse us for our absence."

"Thank you for your hospitality, and for the lovely meal," Mamoru said in response. However familiar the Tsukinos had been throughout the evening, Mamoru knew he was about to overstay his welcome. "I hope for your favour again in the coming year."

A glance at his watch told him it was nearing midnight, and that 2009 was almost upon them. As Usagi's parents went upstairs to dress in their kimono, Usagi led Mamoru to the entrance of her home.

"Are you going to hatsumoude too?" he asked Usagi, when they left the house and made their way to his car. The start of a new year meant the opportunity to do many things for the first time again, and the Tsukinos were going to make their first shrine visit of the year.

"Mama and papa like to go right after midnight," Usagi said, "but we'll go again as a family tomorrow." They watched as her parents left the house, fully dressed in their traditional kimono, her mother waving to them before they climbed into their car. They drove off, leaving Usagi and Mamoru alone outside. "We also go to hatsuhinode every year, so if you'd like, you can join us."

Mamoru drew in a sharp breath. Hatsuhinode, the first sunrise of the year, was often thought of as the most beautiful. He had never cared about seeing one, but for some reason, he suddenly wanted to take up her offer.

"I'd like that, but…"

"I asked mama and she said yes," Usagi replied, answering his unspoken question. "And papa likes you, even though he's never going to admit it."

He appreciated her thoughtfulness, but the uncertainty was still there. "Usagi, I don't want to trespass on your kindness…"

"Remember what I said earlier about trying your best to hope, and feel, and love?" She didn't wait for his response. "What you're doing now, is purposely keeping yourself from succeeding. I think we should leave that nasty habit back in 2008, don't you?"

He smiled, and under the light of the crescent moon, he saw Usagi return the gesture. "Thank you, Usagi, for everything, tonight. It meant more to me than you can possibly imagine." So many people were thinking about the firsts of the year, but Mamoru was marvelling at the many firsts of a lifetime.

"Thank you, too," she said, "for trusting me with the story of your past, with your feelings. It's something I would treasure forever."

Somewhere in the city, a sudden boom sounded, instantly followed by splashes of light that lit parts of the sky, though they could not see the fireworks.

"Happy New Year," he said sincerely, his voice thick with emotion.

"Happy New Year," Usagi replied, and reached to give him a friendly hug. Mamoru closed his eyes as he wrapped his arms around her, breathing in her soft scent. He wanted more than her friendship, but she deserved more, so much more. But as she reluctantly withdrew from his hold and looked away from him, Mamoru wondered if, in her own way, she had been trying to tell him the same thing, that she wanted more, too. That thought, that small glimmer of hope, decided him.

"Usagi," he said, his voice shaky, "tonight was amazing not simply because of what you have given me, but because it was from you. And if you would allow me, I would like to give you the same wonderful things and feelings."

"I'd like that," she repeated his earlier words. Under the moonlight of the new year, they held each other again; this time, though it was still friendly, they both knew they were sharing something so much more. And when they parted this time, they did not keep their distance. Mamoru tenderly tilted her chin towards him, his heart soaring as their lips met in their first kiss.

The first of many more to come.

Finis.