It could be said that it was not anything like a man of Mamoru's reach and stature to act irrationally. Anybody at his school knew that and they repeated it like a mantra. They acted as if he was something to be proud of, the inability to have a single irrational or illogical thought in one's head. Oh, how he wished he could believe them. He watched how happy the girl he thought he loved was alongside somebody that wasn't him, and the stake down his chest felt like it was being driven further and further down. It hit him like a ton of bricks. He wasn't enough.

It wasn't hard to see that the man was hurt. His eyes flicked toward the ground for a moment and met with a pebble. Someone had to have answers for him. Was he pathetic, pining after a girl that had never felt the same? Was he stupid for trusting im love. He'd pieced together the visions. She was Serenity and he was Endymion. They had a love that lasted over multiple timelines, or at least, that's what the studious man thought. A hand was resting on his shoulder, probably one belonging to that irresponsible and irrational Minako. She was such a child, yet she was taken seriously.

All the Sailor Guardians trusted her as a leader, so why on earth couldn't they treat him the same as they did her? Was he really that different from them all? Did he deserve all this, wholly and truthfully? Thoughts filled his head, clogging it full of so much information that he could barely think. Blue eyes burnt sunlight into the pavement as he tapped his foot pensively, waiting for all the negative thoughts to stop clouding him. He groaned in annoyance and then silenced himself abruptly. Complications of his nature were best dealt with by him and nobody else.

He felt his skin burn underneath his head of black hair. Cicadas cried out in the distance as the sun set, a sponge met with a pale forehead to wipe off sweat. His companion left him and he was all alone.  He felt his perspiration drip on his clothes like some unsettling hot coffee and it made the man shiver from sheer unease. Gulping down and quashing the last bit of doubt, he left the park as well. Nobody followed. It was just as it always had been. Nobody bothered him about anything pointless and no hags on the street tried to sell him out to cram schools.

He carried his briefcase, a notepad, pair of glasses, pen and clipboard being his only companions for the journey home. He felt a small downpour of rain on him, the wet liquid seeping through his grey blazer and making him smell like some kind of wet dog. He watched as the couples ran through the rain, puddles meeting with every clattering footstep. Kids collapsed on the floor from running amok foolishly and their parents lifted them off the ground, panicked. He chuckled. Rain and the anarchy it caused for the people around him was humorous, almost as if it were all in jest. He couldn't take any of it seriously.

In his brain, he had a sudden realisation. He had left one of the most interesting books he had ever read at the park, probably on the now wet park bench that he had been sitting on. He began to meander slowly towards the area in which he thought that he misplaced the book, glancing around. The dogs that were once filling the park mere moments ago had all gone. Nobody's pets were left astray. He went to glance at the fountain near where he had left it. Glancing under benches, tables, stray candy wrappers, small plastic bags... there was nothing that remotely looked like his novel.

"Chiba-san?! Is that you?" He heard a voice call out to him.

He slowly rotated his head towards where he thought the sound had come from. "Is that you, Tsukino?" He shouted back.

"Prick." He felt a hand gripping his shoulder. "Dumpling-chan has your book," the voice snarled, "so you'd better hurry up and grab it."

He immediately tensed upon realising who the owner of the voice was. "Oh, so it's Tenoh?" He hissed.

"Get it, you twit," Haruka told him through gritted teeth. "After that, you had better hurry it up and get out of here. That is, if dumbasses like you understand how to get out of this place as well."

"'Ruka!" A voice interjected. His eyes met with a piercing blue pair. Her teal hair flowed in the wind.  "Sorry, she can be a bit cold. She doesn't like men that much."

"I tolerate them if they don't cause my girlfriend any trouble!" Haruka retorted. "Michiru, this isn't your situation to handle."

"Don't fight Usagi-chan's battles for her, then," Michiru tried to reason with her, but her girlfriend was as stubborn as a bull.

"I'll go grab the book, since that's what you desire!" Mamoru shouted.

He stormed away from the two as if he were a toddler that was just told he couldn't have a sweet he wanted. He growled under his breath and glared dubiously at the odango atama he had eyes for. Maybe it was his chance today. His heartbreak could be over with right this moment if he was careful with how he went about it.

"Oh, so it is you!" The teen remarked vaguely, giving him a vacant stare. She glanced at her right arm, under which was the book in question. "Here, I believe this is yours." She passed the book to him.

"Thank you, Tsukino-san," he muttered, grabbing the book from her hands. The girl's hands felt so warm and soft. "Uh, there was something I wanted to tell you."

"Mm, and that is?" She encouraged.

"Usagi Tsukino, Juban Middle Third Year, Class One," he addressed her with every mote of information he had about her. "I love you."

"Cute," she said simply, turning her head away and not looking in his direction. "I hate you, so kindly leave me alone. No, I am not interested in a relationship."

"But we were destined!" He sputtered.

"Changes nothing for me," she sighed. "You're a moron, Mamoru Chiba."