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There were a lot of things that Sailor Neso forgot. Like birthdays, sometimes, or school assignments, or when he left eggs frying on the stove. His cellphone was almost always in some state of misplacement. But there was one thing that he had been especially good about, and that was making it to his weekly meet-ups with Sailor Perseus, Senshi of Illusion.

Even if he was late.

Sailor Neso came jogging up behind the senshi of illusion. He tried to be sneaky, but failed, settling for running up and scooping her into his arms. She was so twirlable. It was one of his favorite things about Princess Chronos too. Even though they had seen each other at the Halloween Masque, Neso had not spoken to Perseus since then. As far as he was concerned, everywhere was business as usual, which in his world meant one thing: absolutely perfect.

Neso crumpled when Perseus stiffened to him, awkwardly setting her down when she struggled. He kept his smile on, though the corners of his mouth dipped downward for a second. It was just a moment. His smile returned to its usual wattage immediately after. "I've been spectacular. Haven't you?" Her injuries clearly concerned him by the way he softened his arms around her, but Neso said nothing of them. It wasn't like him to draw attention to the negative, anyway.

One hand reached up, brushing a swash of dark hair from her eyes. He leaned in to kiss her.

Neso had intended for that kiss to be a lot longer and deeper. His mouth hung lamely near to her, and then he straightened back. This wasn't the Perseus he knew. At first, her standoffishness had been adorable, and it hadn't taken long for him to charm her out of it. Now it stood like a wall between them. Neso didn't know how to fight for anything, hardly even his princess whom he fiercely loved. He still depended on her to tell him what to do.

It was that very same dependence that had him ask Perseus, "Should I do something?" The words were weak, innocent. If this flared into a fight, Neso would walk away and throw in the towel before the game had even really started. But if she told him what to do, he would try -- god, how he would try -- to change for her, if only to see her smile again.

Oh no. This was grown up talk. This was a serious conversation. It took everything in Neso's power not to just make an excuse to get out of there, or to start cracking jokes. For all of his virtues, Neso was not the person who helped people get over their hardships. He was just the person who made them laugh about it, or took their mind off of it for a couple hours. Perseus was asking for a level of maturity that the 21-year-old simply did not possess. For Chronos, he would summon it up, and even then, it only worked just barely.

So he was silent. And when she leaned her forehead against his chest, he cupped the back of her head with a hand and gently stroked at the loose tumble of her curls. "You look really pretty tonight," he said, as if that was an answer to anything. Then Neso tried to kiss her again.

His kiss dragged across her cheek, brushing all the way to her earlobe, before he took a step back. What did he do? Confusion was back in his eyes, but this time, it was something else too.

This thing with Perseus had been unexpected, but it had been wonderful. Neso dated plenty of girls. More than half of his close female friends were girls who he had at one time shared some sort of romantic or physical relationship with in the past. They, like all the others, realized in due time that Neso was simply incapable of fostering a real, adult relationship. It ended amicably, and they remained friends. But still, it was a change. And Neso was scared to admit to himself how he couldn't stand the idea of anything changing between him and Perseus.

Okay, so maybe they had never really been serious. Hell, he didn't even know who she was under the fuku. He had only learned what school she went to last week. He didn't know if she had sisters, or brothers, or if her parents were still together. They mostly talked about nothing -- just silly things like movies and how pretty the sunset was and the best kinds of ice cream. Why did that wonderful lightness have to suddenly became something so unbearably heavy?

The smile on Neso's face slowly drooped. He didn't want to be in a serious relationship because he was incapable of them, but he didn't want to lose Perseus either. All of these things were too complicated for him to say. So instead, Sailor Neso stepped back and became someone else.



It was not an answer, but it was a gesture. He would show her parts of himself if it would make her happy. He could do that much.

Bo stared at Perseus for a moment. "I'm Bo. That's all I am. And I like you because you're pretty -- but for other reasons too." His hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie. "I can only be me, Pers. I get it if that's not enough." It hurt to do it, but Bo turned away from her. There was no way he could make her happy, really happy, because he was not the guy who could answer these questions for her. He wasn't the boy who a girl could talk out all of her problems with. If that wasn't enough for Perseus, then she deserved better. Bo knew it.

So hard as it was, he walked away.

The warm thud against his back surprised Bo. He hadn't expected her to come after him. His hands moved down to her, interlaced with her fingers, and then stopped. Her fingers were bare -- no gloves. Slowly, Bo turned around to face the girl who clung to him, the girl who said exactly what he wanted to hear. To his own surprise, the face he saw was familiar.

"Adira," he said, a glowing smile creeping across his lips.

They had not been friends at Sovereign Heights, but at times, the two had crossed paths. At parties, for one, and sometimes on campus. Bo wasn't the best about keeping up with classes, but as a member of the school swim team, he was often hanging around before and after practice. Sometimes he would be found with a tutor in the library. Here and there, he could remember catching this girl's face and hearing a name attached to it. He had always thought she was pretty, but knowing that she was Sailor Perseus made her more beautiful than words could express.

Bo lifted his hands and cupped her face. "Wow," he murmured, voice low and husky. Did he need to say anything else? One hand slipped around the small of her back, curling her to him. The other slid up the side of her neck, resting just behind her ear and cupping the long dark strands that seemed so familiar now. Before, he would have never seen Sailor Perseus and thought of Adira. Now, he could see no one else.

Once again, Bo tried to kiss the girl whose smile he had been missing all night.

Little ribbons of warmth traced racing zig-zags across his chest, radiating out from the places where Adira touched. Yes, this was what Bo wanted. This was what he always wanted. No more mopey sadfaces making them both feel a little gray. It was always a good time to be happy, and like some sort of cheerfulness-sniffing bloodhound, Bo could sense it rising in Adira.

It rose in him too. He couldn't contain it. With a laugh, he swung the arm that cupped her back and caught her legs with his other arm, effectively cradling the teenager, and then spun in a circle. "And I can still do this!" he said, grinning. "I don't need no stinkin' fuku." Whatever accent Bo had attempted was unclear. It was something between John Wayne and Scarface.

The smile on his face, however, came across loud and clear.