When Usagi Tsukino wakes up, she is not sailor moon. The sun is setting over Tokyo, and the spacious room she opens her eyes to is painted in warm golds and reds, reflecting off the empty walls and subdued furniture. It's a room she's very familiar with.
It's the room she put Tuxedo Kamen down in when he was ashen grey and breathing shallowly.
It's the room she was stabbed in. But--
It looks different now. There's nothing dark about it, nothing frightening. It's as clean and empty as it ever was, save the bunnies-and-moons rug she placed on the floor the other day, but the skyline and the beautiful colors that filter through the wall-sized picture windows, the calm quiet and sense of comfortable stillness, hold all the hallmarks she's been coming to associate with the mystery prince.
She's wearing the clothes she was in (minus her shoes) before she transformed into Sailor Moon, dry and warm, and the covers have been pulled up over her.
And that presence is nearby: she can feel him, close, unworried, moving about.
%r
~*~*~*~
Serenity is giggling in the palace garden, pressing her nose to so many new and colorful blossoms. She could almost feel Endymion's amused look between her shoulder blades.
Finally, the weight of it causes her to turn a shy smile at him. Has she done something weird again? "What?"
He shakes his head, still leaning against the garden's wall. "You're just so...enthralled."
She stands and walks over to him, trying to look stern and fails miserably. If nothing else, she is as amused as he is.
When she reaches him, her hands fall on his chest before they slide to his neck.
"You've seen my home. Yours has...so much more color. And more types of flowers."
Speaking of color, she is unabashedly and once again admiring the contrast of her pale fingers against the skin of his much darker neck. "So lovely."
It's obvious she's not talking about flowers anymore.
There is the clearing of a throat as their lips almost touch, and she quickly finds herself staring at a strong back.
"Pardon the intrusion, my lord, but they've been looking for you." A peek around a shoulder reveals one of the castle physicians. She doesn't know him well. She shrinks further behind Endymion's back.
Before a response can be made, Sailor Mercury is there. She walks by to speak with the physician.
It's long enough that Serenity and Endymion can sneak a few stolen kisses. But having company makes them more chaste than they otherwise would be.
Later, back home, Serenity asks what she and the physician talked about.
"Various forms of medicine." Sailor Mercury has a look of contemplation on her face. "He's very interesting."
Serenity's gasp has Mercury's face a bright red.
But this isn't her last thought as she drifts to sleep. Instead, her mind focuses where it has everynight for what feels like an eternity.
Endymion.
Life, she decides, is very near perfect.''
~*~*~*~
Usagi doesn't wake up. It's more like she's slowly poured awake. And even then, as she rolls over with a stretch and burrows her face in a pillow, she knows it's going to be one of those mornings where she doesn't wake up completely until after lunch.
She reaches for Luna, who isn't there, and then realizes she must still be at the high school and--
Wait, what?
She jerks up, staring around the room that is not hers.
But she recognizes it, and feels his warmth from the other room, very close, and wraps arms around herself with a happy, sleep filled hum.
He can feel her slow awakening like a sunrise just before twilight, just as surely as she can feel his presence in the apartment. Out on the balcony, so far up no one can see him lingering there, the boy's mouth pulls up into a small smile, and the balcony door opens to bring the distant sounds of the city below in with a refreshing, washed-clean October breeze.
The long curtains flutter in the bedroom.
Tuxedo Kamen steps into the doorway and leans there, that faint smile still on his face.
@};--',--'-,--
Waking up was interesting: it was a strange place, so he should have been nervous, should have been on guard -- but the silvery love radiating so close to his heart removed those instincts more quickly and more wholly than anything else possibly could. The delicate perfume that didn't come from a bottle filled his awareness, and his blue eyes slowly opened to her warm glow, brilliant in the crook of his dusky arm.
He smiled, even though he knew he'd catch hell from Kunzite later. But it's not as if his Shitennou didn't know where he was, didn't know her Senshi, her Guardian Soldiers, could keep them both safe.
@};--',--'-,--
"Feeling better?" the boy in the mask asks with gentle amusement, hands in his pockets as he leans there. His smile is familiar to her, but it should be, shouldn't it? She knows him, she knows Tuxedo Kamen, knows that smile of his. Except-- she knows it even better than that, doesn't she?
His black hair falls across his forehead, kept away from his dark blue eyes by virtue of the ghostly luminous glimmer of his barely-there mask.
Her eyebrows furrow in confusion for a moment. Twice now, in the span of well under twenty-four hours, Tuxedo Kamen had not been who she'd expected to see. And the smile...
~*~*~*~
He's concentrating and grumpy. To others, this is an unspoken demand to stay away.
Usagi ignores this and plops in the chair across from him.
"Watchya reading?"
His scowl is there for only a few seconds as he tells her. And then, near the end, he's smiling.
It's soft and warm, just the barest hint.
~*~*~*~
Then she realizes she's not awake enough just yet to puzzle through things that likely have logical explanations, so she offers him a sleepy smile as she stretches her arms out wide.
"Yes. I had a pleasant dream, too. Bonus points there."
And then she's yawning, and blinking around the room.
"How long was I asleep?"
"Only about three hours," the boy says, still and tall against the doorframe.
He's still looking at her like that, the barest smile still gracing his mouth. The smile's much more visible in his eyes, which she can see so clearly. Eyes that have looked at her with worry, with sorrow, with awe and something else, something more than mere affection, though that's always there, always been there before. Even when he teased her.
But when has Tuxedo Kamen ever teased her?
"You exhausted yourself up there, but it was just from using so much energy. We'll have to work on your control-- and I'll have to work on my speed." And the way he's standing, so still and so casual, so self-possessed and present...
"At least," he adds, pushing off the door frame and straightening, starting to walk toward her, "until you can modulate your energy output more reliably. I can't imagine it's anything but lack of practice, which we can work on if you want to." He sits on the edge of the bed, turned around a bit to face her. It's a big bed. He's not too close. "I expect we'll need to work on how we fight together. I know you have your training with the girls, but if they're not there and I'm backing you up more actively, we need to be able to predict each other's movements. I'm not nearly as good as they are, and there's only one of me-- but I don't think I should spend too much time around them."
He reaches up with one long-fingered, white-gloved hand, taking hold of his mask.
"They won't let me fight if they know."
He takes his mask off.
Part of her figures it's a dream, and she's half tempted to roll back over so she can dream this anymore.
But, there's a small jolt of pain when she bites her cheek, so this obviously isn't a dream.
And she's very happy for that.
"I think part of me knew." She plucks the mask from his hand before placing it over her own eyes, using the excuse to see through it as a means to hide the heat in her cheeks. "Or a lot of things makes more sense, now."
Her fingers are shaking, and she's not completely sure why that is.
She takes the mask away again, folding her hands in her lap as she looks at him. Her question is more important than worrying about her tinged cheeks. "Why are you telling me now?"
"Because-- I don't want them to keep me away from you," Mamoru says honestly, if hesitantly. His own gloved hands rest on his knees, palms up in unconscious supplication.
Still the cape, the white tie and tails and gloves, his armor-- still they're there, but everything else about him is laid bare in his face, in his eyes and his bearing, like it is before no one else.
"Unless you want them to, now."
He looks away from her, not wanting to see it if there's relief in her eyes like the summer sky. But he adds, anyway, smile in his voice, "A lot of things made sense to me when I found out. Once I had the time to process it, later."
Usagi studies him for a moment, worrying her lip between her teeth.
If she is honest, there is much relief in the reveal.
For one thing, it explains the exact same badum in her chest she felt for both.
"I don't." She hooks her arms around his, leaning her cheek against his shoulder. It's a silent affirmation of her words.
Her friends will have a hard time keeping her away. Heck, they haven't really been successful up to this point, either. And now that she knows, it only cements her stubborn resolution.
And then she smiles. "I think I know what you meant now. I like Tuxedo Kamen more now that I know he's you."
And that--
--that is the brightest smile Usagi's ever seen on Mamoru's face, very real.
Not sad at all.
He drops his henshin the rest of the way, formalwear fading into his school uniform, his dark raincoat stark against the white and silver-grey, the red tie. And Mamoru scoots a little closer up the bed, turning around more, and he reaches, gloveless, for Usagi's hands in her lap. "I think I know why I can touch you and not be afraid, not hesitate at all. It's because you're already there. I told you I wanted you in my space-- because you're already there."
Usagi cannot help but smile back, bright and brilliant, in return. So that's what he looks like when he isn't at all sad.
It suits him very much.
His hand is warm and she plucks at his fingers with her own.
And then her smile is even brighter, and there's an orchestra in her chest.
Did he just say...?
She has to look at his shoulder now, and she wants to say something of the same, but--
Her smile fades a bit. She is thinking about what she's been trying, hard, not to think about the past couple days. Usagi doesn't want to acknowledge the question, pretend she has no clue why she wanted to cry on the way home the other day, much less the answer.
She doesn't want it, but sadly, she needs it.
"What about her?" There's a small choke at the end, but she smiles, to let him know she's fine.
He's close enough now to reach up with one hand to brush her bangs from her face, so freshly from sleep. "It's you I've met in this life. It's you I meet again and again."
That hand turns to cup the side of her face, thumb ghosting across her temple as he looks at her, directly at her--
--and he looks like a prince, he carries himself like one, the weight of his attention is that of an ancient soul forged to watch and guard.
But he's looking at her. At Usagi.
"We'll all help each other find her. Once upon a time, I thought all I wanted was to find her, to find the Phantom Silver Crystal, to get my memories back. To find out who she was, who I am. But then I met you, Tsukino Usagi," Mamoru says very quietly, not blushing at all, solemn and serious--
--and still not sad.
"Your smile isn't a dream, a ghost from dreams I thought were the only real thing in my life. You found me and woke me up. And I don't want to go back to sleep, Usako. You make me feel real, care more than I've ever cared before. It's wonderful to be with you."
She leans into his hand, keeping her eyes on his as he talks.
The more he speaks, the wider her smile becomes.
And then Usagi realizes something very important.
Even if it's just in here, just for now, she can stop pretending she doesn't feel things, too. Even though when she was lying to herself she was bad at it, there's always been...a wall. This barrier.
So, she stops.
It's a bubbling, fizzy wave in her chest that warms her to her toes and causes her to giggle with joy. And the wave is cause by him, directed at him.
And then, because she can't not, her lips are against his, soft and warm.
And she has the distant feeling of doing this before.