First Truths

And

For the second time in as many days, it was a confused and tired Mamoru who entered the apartment. This time, however, he entered through the front door, slipping out of his shoes as an afterthought. He went through the mechanical motions of boiling water for tea, then washed the dishes he had left soaking in the sink that morning. After the task was done, he turned-a little desperately-around in circles in the middle of the living area. There had to be something that needed to be done, anything to keep his mind off what had transpired today. But the apartment was, as always, immaculate. Even the tea was ready.

Mamoru took the steaming cup and slumped down on his couch, flipping the television on as he passed. He carefully kept his thoughts on the mundane, silly conversation between some random anime characters. When the show ended, he concentrated on the next. And the next. For two hours he lulled his mind into a hazy, pleasurable state of distraction. See? It's not so hard not to think about her. Except, of course, for the fact that he was thinking about not thinking about her.

He set his tea cup down with more force than was necessary. The long-cooled liquid sloshed onto the coffee table. He drove his hands into his hair with a defeated sigh. This was pathetic. To think that he was agonizing over Odango Atama, of all people. Not simply agonizing...obsessing! Over a girl he'd met only a few months ago, no less! And what an auspicious meeting it had been: getting bonked on the head with a failed test. Yet, she'd become a constant fixture in his life, little by little. It had suddenly seemed as if everywhere he turned, she was there. Through fate, or chance, or luck...it just seemed to happen.

And he thought he'd had her judged. He'd thought he knew everything there was to know about Tsukino Usagi. Flighty, unstoppable, clumsy, cheerful, and yes, attractive...but nothing truly spectacular on the surface. It wasn't until he'd seen her smile at someone-it skipped his mind, now, who had been the lucky person-that he'd understood where her true power lay. So he'd teased her and, once in a lucky while, even conjured a smile out of her between their raging fights. But still, he had never entertained the idea of a relationship with her because, deep down, he knew he was already in love...in love with his princess.

So it had been very disturbing and somewhat frightening when he had started to fall for Sailor Moon. He loved her courage, her strength, and her loyalty to her friends. And then he couldn't seem to stop himself from bumping into Odango, and he'd been even more disturbed, and even panicked, at the idea that she, too, seemed to have some hold over him. He could not resist her laughter, her joy, her love for life. And, throughout all this, he knew-knew-that somewhere out there, his dream princess was waiting for him. He could not betray her.

The thought of putting her aside, the one whod haunted and graced his dreams for so long, was simply inconceivable to him...or had been until all these conflicting feelings for Sailor Moon and Odango had emerged. At least, thankfully, that now made sense. Odango and Moon were the same person! As crazy and unlikely as it seemed, there was no doubt now. But his princess...

Haven't you been unfaithful to her already? You have feelings for Usagi.

NO! No, no, no...he couldn't. He was already in love. This...this caring for Odango was-had to be-some temporary thing. They were thrown together by circumstance constantly, of course he would have feelings for her, it was only natural and meant absolutely nothing.

I cannot be in love with Odango.

"Usagi-chan, that nice young man called again. He said it was important," Usagi heard her mother call from downstairs.
Usagi sighed and burrowed underneath her pillow. It was Sunday, a day after that disaster at the mall. Since then, Mamoru had called five times. Twice on Saturday, Usagi had let the machine pick up. As her parents weren't home, it hadn't seemed to matter. But today, he'd been trying to contact her since the ungodly hour of 10 am. Her mother had answered the phone and Usagi had barely been coherent as she trudged downstairs to talk to "a young man on the line," as her mother had said. Well, she'd muttered a sleepy "moshi moshi", and heard him say "Hello, Odango," before she realized who it was. Needless to say, she'd hung up the phone in a hurry and then decided to hide up in her room the rest of the day.