Chalk
by Phantasy Star
------------------------------

Usagi gazed at the glimmering sparkle of the ring in her hand. She passed her fingers lovingly over the smooth diamond. "Oh no, I wanted to see you off with a smile today..." she whispered. Before Mamoru's flight to America, before Galaxia. "Usako. Open it..." He had surprised her with the engagement ring. "I love you, Usako."

Putting the ring and its case into the large cardboard box, she stood up and glanced around the room. She flinched when she noticed the item she had almost forgotten, a pair of shimmering shoes sitting on the hardwood floor. "At last, I found my princess…" Glass slippers for her birthday. She almost smiled. She remembered how she had slapped him when he forgot her special day. The look he gave her as he knelt down and fitted her for the shoes - she would always remember that look. He didn't show it often, but he had rarely played out her fantasies of handsome fairytale princes anyway.

She put the slippers into the box, and walked to the coffee table to pick up the final gift he had given her. The intricately-designed crystal rose seemed almost too fragile to touch. That night was one of her most memorable with Mamoru - under the moon, after she had gotten him back from death. He had looked down at her intently when he uttered the words barely above a whisper. "When I'm with you, I'm filled with an energy I can't even described."

And at that moment, when he kissed her at the harbor, she knew - she thought she knew - that they would be together forever. Crystal Tokyo. Chibiusa.

Wearily, she got up and pushed the front door open, picking up the cardboard box and following the familiar path to Mamoru's apartment building.

"Mamoru,

I know I haven't written you for a few weeks and you might be starting to wonder. Since you've been gone I'm been thinking a lot about our relationship..."

Usagi bit her lip. She had revised the letter more times than she could count. She knew then that she still cared for him - he had never done anything wrong and she wanted to hurt him as little as she could. Then again, she sometimes wondered whether Mamoru was capable of being hurt.

"...I think I'm in love with Seiya-kun.

I'm sorry.

Usagi"

She rested the box on a bench and stretched her arms. It felt heavy. His gifts, his ambitions for her, they had always seemed heavy. He wanted her to become somebody. He wanted her to grow, to leave her world of mangas and cocoas and childish infatuations.

But Seiya. He loved her for her. At least when he did, he loved her for her.

Thoughts drifting to the other most important man in her life, the familiar bitter feeling returned. Perhaps she deserved it. She knew the type of person he was.

"I've... I've been seeing someone else for about a month now."

Usagi shook her head in disbelief, forcing a smile as if she thought he were kidding, "You're joking, right, Seiya? You're... This is... this isn't funny..."

"I'm sorry, Usa..." Seiya said, using her real name for the first time, "I think we should take some time apart."

He placed a hand on her shoulder.

"I left Mamoru for you!" Usagi screamed, pushing him away, "How could... why would you do this to me!?"

"Gomen nasai. Usa... Gomen nasai."

The world had stopped for her then. It hurt less than when she broke up with Mamoru, maybe because it wasn't her first breakup. Or maybe it was because she had begun to realize her feelings for Seiya were hardly real. Neither were his for her.

He was exciting. Compared to Mamoru's stone-like personality, Seiya was dangerous, volatile, free. Her heart raced when he called her name. She felt alive when she went to his concerts, always in the front row. He winked at her every time.

A crush. Her heart still ached for what she gave up over a crush. Then again, who could blame her? She was eighteen. She wasn't meant to know her future that early. She wasn't meant to settle.

With trembling fingers, Usagi pressed the "Play" button on her answering message again.

"Is this it?" Mamoru's voice hammered, a low rumble. "You're breaking up with me over a letter? You're telling me you're in love with another guy over a piece of paper?"

There was a pause and a crash on the other end. Did he drop something?

"Damn it, Usagi. Pick up the phone. I know you're there. Pick up the phone."

What would have happened if she did answer his call? Would he have convinced her? Was there a chance for that?

But he was that type of person. As long as she pretended everything was okay, he didn't respond. As long as she wasn't angry, he didn't pay attention to her. And then when their relationship was in trouble he pretended to be the most passionate boyfriend. It wasn't him. Not really.

"Mamo-chan. Do you love me or Chibiusa more?"

Silence.

When she ran to him, when she cried and pounded on his door that night he returned to Tokyo, was that the real Mamoru? Her heart still ached at the memory. After she had gathered all of her courage to find him, to explain how she felt. She would never forget that night because she realized then that even his love for her had a limit. Her mistake, it wasn't something that could be wiped away like chalk.

"Mamo-chan. I'm really sorry I hurt you. I... I love you. I never really cared for Seiya-kun. Please let me in." She was crying.

"Usagi..." his strained voice came from across the door, "Go home, Usagi..."

"Mamo-chan, please... give me a chance. Even if Seiya didn't break up with me I would have left him. I never should have-"

"Please, Usagi, just go home," he interrupted, his voice sullen, defeated, "I... I can't. We can never be together again. I can't... We can't be together anymore..."

"Mamoru, no, please..." she whimpered.

"Go home, Usagi."

She had waited outside his door for an hour, eventually slumping down on the floor, eyes dry from crying. And still, he didn't come out. She didn't matter to him anymore.

Usagi was almost there now, walking through the vast gardens on the way to Mamoru's apartment. She had never stopped to look at the beautiful flowers - she was always on a hurry when she went past here. Too excited to see him.

She was happy then. Before Galaxia, before Seiya. She was happy.

Mimete smiled and took hold of Mamoru's arm, "You seem to know a lot about these plants. Can we talk privately?"

"Sorry," Mamoru declared as he put his arms around Usagi and Chibiusa, "This is our family day."

"Are these your sisters?" the strange orange-haired woman asked, annoyed.

"Nope, these are my future wife and daughter."

Usagi's eyes were wet. Those moments, when Mamoru showed her how much he loved her - they were real. He was a guarded person because of his past - she had known that all along. How could she have misunderstood him? How could she have expected more from him, and when she didn't get it, looked elsewhere?

She almost wanted to blame him. If he was more romantic, more passionate, more expressive, then maybe she wouldn't have made her mistake. If he didn't hide from her. The person who was supposed to know him the best - if he didn't hide from her...

She stepped out of the elevator.

She knocked.

"Usagi-chan, I heard about you and Mamoru-san."

"Setsuna-san, I-"

"When Mamoru-san died, when Sailorgalaxia removed his Starseed from his body and his soul was left to fade away, he whispered something. It was faint through the Time Gate, but Endymion-sama, he whispered, 'Usako.'"

"..."

"I thought you should know that."

"Usagi-chan!"

"Minako-chan."

Minako backed away from the half-opened doorway and ushered Usagi inside.

Her eyes turned from excited to sympathetic when she noticed the large cardboard box in Usagi's hand. She smiled a little at the numerous Sharpie-scrawled labels in Usagi's handwriting - "Do not throw away", "Fragile", "Very important".

Usagi's voice was soft, "You'll keep this safe for me, won't you? Until I come back to Tokyo, you'll... keep my Mamoru box safe?"

Minako nodded, her smile still faint as she attempted to lighten her mood, "You can trust me, Usagi-chan. If my apartment catches on fire, I'll get your box before I get Artemis."

Usagi grinned.

Minako hesitated, "You... you're not going to see him at all? Not even to say goodbye? He's just living a few floors above here, you know. It's... just an elevator ride." she sighed, "How do you think Mamoru-san will feel when he finds out you've left Tokyo, and he never even saw you one last time?"

Usagi shook her head. "I... wrote him a letter. I... I don't think he'd want to see me anyway."

"Usagi..."

"Anyway, Minako-chan, I have more last minute packing to do, so I'll see you at the airport tomorrow. Ja!"

"Usako... It'll only be a few years... I'll visit, I'll write. It won't be so bad..."

The airport terminal was busy. People were staring at the tearful blonde, but neither of them cared.

"I'll wait for you!"

As she fell against him and cried into his shirt, he wrapped his arms around her protectively.

He whispered it intently into her hair.

"I love you, Usako. That's not going to change."

Her voice was smiling even as the tears continued.

"I love you too, Mamo-chan...

She nodded contently,

"We'll be together forever."

Mamoru lay on his sofa, the room dark except for the dim lamp on the coffee table. He stared at the words on the page, his eyes running past each line again and again.

He noticed the picture on the kitchen table. Usako and him at the park, her smiling face. She was happy then - he wanted to believe that. He wanted to believe that she was satisfied and content with their relationship, that she wasn't waiting for someone else to come along, someone better than him. He grimaced. Every time he saw the photo it left him perturbed. But for some reason he couldn't bring himself to put it away.

Distracted, his eyes wandered to the phone next to the picture frame.

It would only take one phone call. He'd tell her he still thought about her. Tell her he still cared about her. Tell her he can forget everything.

But that was a lie. He couldn't forget, and he hadn't forgotten. It had changed from a stabbing pain to a dull tug now. But knowing she had loved someone else other than him - even for a moment - it changed everything.

It was easier just not to love her.

Turning off the lamp, he walked into his bedroom.

He turned back to glance at the living room one last time.

Then he shut the door.

- Fin -