Theme 1: Admiration
Title: Unintended Confessions

"Hello Usagi-chan!" the blond part timer greeted as Tsukino Usagi took her usual stool. She purposely ignored the tall dark haired baka that loved to torment her that sat in the adjacent stool. "What can I get you? Your usual?"

"Actually Motoki-oniisan, I was hoping you would let me interview you today. It's just one question for a school project!" she explained.

"A school project huh? I would love to help you out Usagi-chan! What's the question?"

"Who do you admire most in the world?"

Her seat partner snorted with clear derision.

"No comments from the peanut gallery Mamoru-baka," the blond hissed. "I don't need your jaded cynicism contaminating my project!"

She glared at him for a moment. His cobalt blue eyes danced in superior amusement, but he remained silent, only glancing away from the textbook he was reading to take a sip of coffee.

Reassured of the baka's continued respect for her interview, she turned her eyes back up to the arcade worker who was eyeing the two of them, no doubt waiting for the shouting match to start.

"Motoki-oniisan, you were about to tell me who you admire most in the world," she said graciously, waving for him to speak.

"That's actually a tough question Usagi-chan," Motoki admitted, his eyes turning toward the ceiling in search of inspiration.

She waited patiently with her pencil down on a blank sheet of paper in her notebook, ready to scribble down frantic notes.

"Probably my mom," he admitted.

"Awww," Usagi gushed. "Tell me why!" she directed eagerly.

He laughed at her enthusiasm. "She's something of a renaissance woman! My dad wanted to create this chain of restaurants – he wanted something for everyone, he said. So, we own a fast food stop, a five-star restaurant, a few hole-in-the-wall sushi restaurants, and even an arcade," he gestured to the space around them."

"I didn't realize your family owned this place!" she exclaimed. "Now, I'm going to have to make your parents a card of appreciation for making life so much more enjoyable."

"That's sweet Usagi-chan! I'm sure they'd get a kick out of that. Anyway, my dad, he had no idea all the different things that he would have to learn to run such a variety of places. It was our mother who made it all work.

"She did the research, trained various employees in trades she was just learning herself, she learned to sew to make curtains and table clothes, and upholstery for cushions. She was on the cutting edge of gaming. And she did this during a time when women were expected to stay home and take care of the household and children. She somehow managed all of that at once.

"And she did it out of love and support, never expecting anything in return. Honestly, dad still doesn't really understand how she is the one that made him a success. I mean he loves her, but he doesn't get it. Without her, he never would have gotten past that first place."

Usagi's hand flew across the page as she was trying to capture every detail that Motoki shared with her.

"Thank you Motoki-oniisan!" Usagi squealed. "This is perfect! Now, I only have to find three more people to interview."

"Glad to help Usagi-chan," he quipped. "Let me know if you want anything to eat!"

"Sure thing! Thanks Motoki-oniisan," her noise to the notebook as she continued to write. She sat staring at her notes, immensely pleased with how well all her interviews had gone so far. She just needed to find a few more people and then figure out how to organize it all for her presentation.

"Aren't you going to ask me?" Mamoru asked casually, still pouring over his textbook.

"Wasn't planning on it," she shot back.

He shrugged and continued to drink his coffee.

She continued to sketch out plans for her presentation – she chewed on the end of her pencil, contemplating including a picture of each person she interviewed. She glanced at Mamoru out of the corner of her eye. He didn't seem to notice her at all, which she found irritating for some incomprehensible reason.

With a groan of frustration, she turned her head in the other direction, and continued to work. Or at least she tried to, but suddenly she couldn't concentrate, only too aware that her sometime nemesis had practically volunteered, and she couldn't deny that she was curious what type of person could earn the admiration of the somewhat discriminating upper classmen.

"Fine!" she exclaimed dramatically and turned to him. He grinned superiorly, but continued to ignore her.

"Mamoru-baka, who is the person you admire most in the world?"

"Sailor Moon," he answered without hesitation. His eyes still never leaving his textbook.

She nearly fell backwards off her stool in shock.

"Really?" she exclaimed gleefully, wishing she could tell him exactly who his hero was. "I never pegged you as some fan boy."

He scowled at the description. "I am not some fan boy," he stated coldly.

"Prove it!" she challenged, trying to hide her own desperation at needing to hear his answer.

He said nothing. She could not handle his silence, she needed him to keep talking about this.

"See! You probably just like a girl in a miniskirt same as any other hot-blooded male."

The pencil he was holding snapped and he turned furious eyes toward her.

She leaned away, suddenly afraid of the anger in his eyes.

"It was just a question," she said lightly, trying to dismiss her antagonizing comment. She had wanted to know why, but angry Mamoru was scary – not at all worth it.

But she bit her lip trying to suppress her pleased grin. Seriously, if only he knew!

"What is so funny?" he demanded.

"Just imagining you trying to talk to Sailor Moon," she improvised on the spot.

He sighed. "You're never going to let this go, are you?"

"Probably not," she admitted.

He sighed again. "Look it's not about her looks, though she is definitely attractive. So many people want to be Sailor Moon, but she doesn't. And even though she wants nothing to do with it, she does it anyway."

"What do you mean?" she asked quietly, stuck by his accurate insight.

"Imagine having to face monster after monster that send you careening into a tree or trap you inside some kind of grey sludge. That at any moment, you could die with one careless mistake. And then choosing to fight anyway – choosing to protect others that have no idea that they even need to be protected, just because you have an ability that no one else has. Even though you never asked for it – never wanted it."

She listened intently, entranced by his eyes that swirled with unrestricted passion that he usually never expressed, at least not openly. She watched as his hands swung emphatically emphasizing his points.

"What about the other Sailor Senshi?" she couldn't help but ask.

He shook his head. "The rest of them… they enjoy it – they are more at peace when they are fighting – like they have connected with their true selves. They would not choose any differently. Sailor Moon though, she hates it! But she does it anyway. She's truly the bravest and most selfless of them all. And I admire her for it."

"How do you know all of this?" she whispered.

"I saw her once a week or two back," he began vaguely. "There was a creature at the park, a big thundering bloke. It was charging towards Sailor Mercury who had her nose in her little computer device doing whatever analysis that she does. And Sailor Moon intercepted its path and took the blow. It wasn't that she couldn't get out of the way in time, she chose to take the hit because that's what she had to do. Then, within seconds, she was on her feet again, quaking in pain or fear – I can't know for sure, but she faced the monster again even when I suspect she wanted to be just about anywhere else."

She was confused at first. He described the battle perfectly. She remembered the encounter he was referring to. But she knew there had been no civilians at that battle. Only the youma, the other senshi, and Tuxedo Kamen.

Oh my god.

She stared at him in shock, suddenly able to imagine the domino mask over his eyes all too clearly.

She watched him as he worked, grateful that he had stayed so focused on his assignment that he had completely missed her revelation and shock, which had most certainly been written on her forehead for the world to see.

"You should ask me now," she said softly.

"Ask you what?"

"Who I admire most in the world."

He sighed, but turned toward her anyway. "Who do you admire most in the world?" he asked flatly as if knowing she would pester him for eternity if he didn't play her game.

"Tuxedo Kamen."

He smirked superiorly, "Why does that not surprise me?" he commented dryly.

"Now ask me why."

"Why?" he asked with seeming indifference, but he turned towards her with just slight glint in his eyes. Really, that was the equivalent of the ever-stoic Chiba Mamoru sitting on the very edge of his seat, she was almost certain.

"He's incredibly reliable," she started carefully. "He always manages to show up a just the right moment. And he's incredibly encouraging. Even when Sailor Moon is in a situation that appears hopeless, his faith in her never waivers," she described slowly, carefully watching the minute expressions on his stoic face. His lips seemed to tick upwards a time or two, as if they wanted to smile, but he controlled them. He had a much better poker face than she, and the blond heroine felt herself doubt for just a second, but she forced herself to continue anyway. If she was wrong, it's not like he would understand what she was getting at.

"The other senshi can be harsh and critical, and I think Sailor Moon knows that they mean well – that they want her to grow and become stronger, but he is the best at telling her the words she truly needs to hear in order to actually pull off impossible feats."

"That sounds too fantastical to be true," he commented skeptically. "Have you even met Tuxedo Kamen?"

She was not fooled this time – she could see in his eyes cloud in confusion at her description. Or maybe it was wonderment. But suddenly, she was certain.

"There was one battle in particular that happened… like a week or two ago?" she said, intentionally echoing his earlier words.

He raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Sailor Moon had fallen to the ground after being trampled by this gargantuan beast. She had just picked herself up, when the thing struck again. She saw it coming, but she was just so tired and overwhelmed. She didn't move fast enough. She was hysterically sobbing at not being able to react, when Tuxedo Kamen arrived and swept her out of the way. They landed in a tree. The ancient camphor tree near the lake. And he set her gently down and told her that he was impressed with her ability to protect her comrades – that she could take the youma if only she stayed focused. And most importantly, that he would be right behind her if anything went awry."

She watched as his eyes widened as he stared at her in disbelief. His mouth opened as if to speak, but he closed them quickly again with a slight shake of his head. Suddenly he offered her a slight smile, and she found herself grinning coyly at him lost in his ocean-blue gaze that never faltered. She glanced down at her hands feeling the heat in her cheeks, shy and uncertain how to continue.

His fingers were on her chin, urging her eyes back up to his.

"Usako," he whispered.

She shivered.

"I never realized," he continued softly. "I'm so…"

"Shh!" she interrupted harshly with a hand to his mouth. "I don't want to hear any apologies Mamoru-baka!"

"You don't?"

Before she could explain that he and their daily collisions and teasing spats were one of the few things that could truly distract her from her paranormal responsibilities, before she could explain that he made her feel like she was a normal girl with ordinary problems, and before she could confess that she had always secretly enjoyed their encounters, her communicator went off.

She jumped, startled. Then she almost laughed. "That means there's a youma," she whispered conspiratorially as she rose to her feet. "You coming?"

His contemplative solemn expression transformed into a dazzling smile that she rarely provoked from him. "I will be right behind you," he promised.