Sailor Moon is copyright 1992 by Naoko Takeuchi.

North American Rights for Sailor Moon are owned by

D.I.C.



Rating:  PG-13



~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*



~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~  Life  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~



Part I - Recovery

Chapter VI - Longings





	'September 23, 1999



	I really don't understand it at all.  Finally,

I mean _finally_, I'm able to put this wall between

me and other people!  They don't know me anymore;

that's the way I wanted it.



	And then . . . THIS happens.



	Jiro enters the picture, and I can't help being

friends with him.  He's so . . . so . . . well he

kinda reminds me of me.  Or at least the way I used

to be.  Friendly.  Open.  Cheerful.



	And now there's Zared and Noriko.  It's like

we're drawn to each other.  I can't help being

friends with them, either.



	Stupid as it may seem, I feel sorta safe around

them.  I feel like I used to feel when I was with the

senshi.  I'm not as guarded as I'm supposed to be.

The only ones who I'm supposed to be close to are Kai

and Naru; and even they don't even know everything.



	I try harder to be indifferent to them but that

seems to make them more determined to know me.  Well,

actually, it's only Jiro.  He starts asking these

simple questions, and I don't know what to say!  He

asks what I do in my spare time.  What do I say?

Being the loser I am, I say go to the café.  He

laughed and asked what else.  And I was seriously at

a loss for words.



	I don't go shopping anymore.  I used to love

that.  With Minako.  It was great.



	I don't even take walks anymore.  I'm always

afraid I'll run into . . .



	When did life get so damn complicated?'



	It was a Saturday, about two weeks after she

had met Noriko and Zared.  She noticed that ever

since she had met Jiro, she hadn't been writing in

her journal as much.



	She continued to write after a moment of

thinking.



	'I only write when I'm sad or upset.  Ever

since I met Jiro, I haven't been writing that much.

I don't know if that's good or bad.  I think it's

both.



	I mean, I'm glad that I'm not so emotional

anymore.  And it feels good to have friends again.  I

had forgotten how important friends are and how happy

they make me.



	On the other hand, I'm letting my guard down.

I haven't told them anything very personal, but

eventually, if this keeps up, we _will_ learn private

things about each other.  What do I tell them about

my old friends, my ex-friends?  And Mamoru?   But

most of all, what if they hurt me?  I can't stand to

be hurt.  Not again.  And if they find out about the

old me, they'll hate me for sure when they find out

what a horrible person I was.  The senshi and Mamoru

do.



	So I don't want to trust them, but I can't help

it.  This is what my lit teacher would call a fatal

flaw: a character's flaw that eventually leads to his

or her destruction.  Or something like that.  I never

really liked literature.



	But I'm so afraid.  I'm so confused.'



	Usagi closed her journal and got ready to go to

the hospital.  Usually, she only wrote at night.  But

she had woken up early this morning and after failing

to go back to sleep, she had started thinking.  Her

thinking had gotten her confused.  Her confusion had

led her to write everything down in an attempt to un-

confuse it all.



	She only failed miserably at it.



	On her way to the bus stop, she ran into

Makoto.



	"Hey Usagi," Makoto said, somewhat

uncomfortably.



	"Hello," Usagi said coolly, trying to act

indifferent, as if seeing her old friend was nothing.



	"I'm on my way to Rei's."  Makoto didn't know

what else to say.  She observed Usagi quickly,

quickly storing in the back of her mind that Usagi

had slight bags under her eyes - something she had

never had before - and she had lost weight.



	"For a senshi meeting?" Usagi asked, concerned.



	"No . . . we're going to the mall."



	"Oh."  'What a relief,' Usagi thought.  Usagi

sort of wished that she were going, too.  It had been

so long since she'd gone out with any of them, since

she'd gone out at all, besides the café and the

hospital.  But she had made a promise long ago.  She

meant to keep it.



	"Um . . . Do you wanna . . . ya know . . . come

with us?" Makoto managed to stammer out.  It had

never been this hard to talk to Usagi, but this

wasn't Usagi.  Not the one she knew and loved.



	"No, I've got plans.  But thanks anyway," Usagi

responded before walking away.  Over her shoulder,

she said, "See you around."



	As she walked past her old friend, Usagi smelt

something similar to smoke.  Makoto wasn't smoking,

was she?  'We go to the same school.  We have the

same classes.  I don't anything that's going on with

any of them anymore.'



	Makoto only stood there, watching Usagi's

retreating back.  'Come back to us, Usa.  We need

you.  And I KNOW you need us.  So, why can't you come

back?  Please . . .'





*** Usagi ***





	I was walking past the arcade on the other side

of the street, thinking about Makoto.  Man, I missed

her.  I missed all of them.  I missed Makoto's

cooking.  I missed Ami's relentless efforts to get us

to study.  I missed Rei's fights.  I missed Minako's

everlasting optimism.  I missed Artemis pissing Luna

off.



	I wondered how Luna was.  Ever since _that_

night, I hadn't seen her, except at the few senshi

meetings.  I wondered if she was okay.  I was

actually surprised and disappointed that she really

didn't come back.



	I glanced towards the arcade.  I missed Motoki,

too.  I hadn't seen him in forever.  I hadn't been to



the arcade for a long time.  I refused to go because

I knew who I would see.  And as luck would have it, I

did see him.



	Or rather, I saw them.



	My heart literally skipped a beat.  I didn't

think that really happened.  I thought that only

happened in romance novels.  But I felt it and I

wanted to cry.



	I had seen him with other girls all the time.

Some were pretty, some were gorgeous, and others . .

. well, you know.



	But this time was different.  This time, the

girl, or should I say the woman? was all over him.

That wasn't anything different.  What was different

was that he was fully responding to her.  He was

enjoying it.  Usually the closest he got to the girls

was walking with an arm around their shoulders.



	I would know.  I may try not to see it, but I

do.  Of course I'm gonna notice!  I love the man,

remember?!?  Part of me just won't stop . . .



	But anywayz . . . This woman was holding onto

his arm with both of hers.  He was smiling and

laughing.  They both were.  He took one of her arms

and wrapped it around his waist, while the arm she

had been clutching draped itself around her

shoulders.  They leaned into each other as they

walked, talking secretively.



	I stood still.  I had ceased walking a long

time ago, at least it seemed like it.  Against my own

will, I was caught up in a whirlwind of flashbacks.



	I remembered the feel of his arm around me.



	I remembered the protectiveness it held.



	I remembered that his cheek was always so

smooth.  He never liked facial hair.



	I remembered his forever-warm body.



	I remembered his cologne and how I used to love

breathing it in.



	I think I remembered, for a brief fleeting

moment, what it felt like to be happy.



	As suddenly as the memories had come, they

left.  They left me cold and alone.  I wanted to get

out of there.  I had to . . . and fast.  But I

couldn't.



	I felt the tears.  But I held them back.  I

wasn't going to cry.  Crying was a weakness.  No one

ever sees me cry.  Not anymore.



	I looked up and he was looking straight at me.





*** Mamoru ***





	I had been staring at her for a long time.

Now, finally, she met my gaze.  Were those tears?

No, it was probably just the sun reflecting off of

them as it would a lake.  A beautiful, deep, clear,

blue lake.



	She didn't know.  She didn't know how torn up I

was because we weren't together.  She thought it was

because I had stopped loving her.  That wasn't the

reason.  I couldn't have stopped if I wanted to.  It

wasn't another dream either.  It was a reason that I

was beginning to regret greatly.



	She turned to leave!  I contemplated running

after her.  Begging for forgiveness.  Telling her

that Leslie was nothing.  Explaining everything.



	Leslie tugged on my arm to enter the arcade.  I

cast one last look at Usagi.  She was walking.  Away.

Out of my life.  For forever?



	I wanted to tell her.  Tell her everything.

God, how I wanted to.



	But . . . no.



	I turned away.



	It was better this way.  She was a better

person, now.  Anybody could tell.



	She was better now.



	On her own . . .



	Without me . . .





~ ~ ~  End  ~ ~ ~





Author's Notes:



	I KNOW!!!  I know!  I know I suck for leaving

you guys hanging for a month.  I'm really, really

sorry.  I hate it when authors do that.  But I just

had this period where I hated everything I wrote.  I

needed to be satisfied with the stuff, ya know?  I

was even gonna add a couple more chapters to make up

for it, but I thought you might get a little bored.

I promise, as long as I remember, there will be

another chapter or two next week.



	These chapters were supposed to be out last

week (I put that on anything), but unfortunately, I

screwed up on the story index.  Whooops.  My bad.



	I have to say something to two people out

there.  I failed to recognize them previously in my

other chapters and stories.  Mad props going out to

Andrea Hui and MoonGoddess, for doing what you guys

do and for the patience with which you do it.  With

this page, you allow people to explore their talents

and enable others to bear witness to them.  So, thank

you for that.  I hope this page will continue for a

very long time, as it has been so successful already.



	Also, thanx to Usagirl for her non-html

instructions for all us html-illiterates!



	Guess that's all.



	All of you feel free to e-mail any thoughts!



	Take care guyz!  Thanks for reading!



HoNeY

Hnymustd@hotmail.com

2/23/00