Usagi Tsukino would say she'd matured since middle school. No longer does she wear her hair in odangos, and her choice of clothing had certa
this is from my wattpad account. Looking to publish it on ao3 soon.
Usagi Tsukino would say she'd matured since middle school. No longer does she wear her hair in odangos, and her choice of clothing had certainly upgraded. not only that, she goes to the most prestigious university in all of Tokyo!
She's continued to live a normal life, no longer dealing with monsters every week.
Everything seems to be falling into place until she runs into a familiar face at a party.
One thing Usagi loved about Tokyo was the vibrant nightlife.
The city practically glittered at night, the concrete humming beneath her feet as her dark heels clattered across the street. The faint, electric scent of fog machines and dry ice mingled with the faint trace of cigarette smoke near outdoor areas.
Usagi pressed her finger against the glossy pedestrian button, careful not to smudge her red nail polish and waited. She hugged her coat tighter against the chilling wind, already regretting letting Minako choose her outfit. The mini dress was cute, sure, but Tokyo in spring was a liar. Warm during the day, and frigid after dark.
At least she could see the stars tonight. Tokyo was usually drowned in light pollution, and she couldn't trace the constellations like she used to years ago from her childhood bedroom window.
The pedestrian light blinked green.
Clutching her leather purse, she continued her journey. Perhaps she shouldn't have gone tonight. But her friends were all there, And it was her first year at Keio University. Maybe—just maybe, if she could arrive at the party early, she would have time to slip into the library and catch up on her reading material.
The rooftop longue came into view at the end of the block, perched atop one of Tokyo's sleek glass towers. Warm light and muffled music echoed down onto the street below.
Usagi hesitated outside the entrance, smoothing down the hem of her scarlet dress. She inhaled. Exhaled. She could do this. This was a regular, college party. Granted, her first party, but she could handle it.
The elevator ride to the top floor felt far too short.
The second the doors slid open, warmth and noise crashed into her all at once.
"Usagi-chan!" Minako tackled her before she could even step inside, looping an arm around her shoulder. "You look so hot in that dress!"
"You're late," Rei called from behind her champagne glass.
"By like, seven minutes." Usagi said.
Usagi rolled her eyes, though she didn't bother hiding her smile.
Makoto appeared, wearing a dark green halter top and pleated mini skirt, gold hoops around her ears. "Ignore them. You look amazing."
"Finally, someone appreciates my suffering." Usagi sighed, exasperated.
Rei studied political science and somehow argued with professors without getting intimated. Makoto was in culinary arts and already had half the campus in love with her recipes.
Ami practically lived in the science building. Minako treated university more like a networking system than an educational institution.
Usagi wasn't still entirely sure how she ended up here. Communications wasn't exactly the most prestigious major according to society, but Usagi enjoyed it. She liked the idea of storytelling and carefully observing human interaction.
"Look at all the guys here!" Minako gasped, surveying the crowed as they all walked into the party. "They're so good-looking!"
Usagi followed Minako's line of sight into a sea of sharply dressed figures and easy laughter. Apparently, Keio University never seemed to have a shortage of physically impressive people.
"You say that every time we leave the dorm rooms." Rei rolled her eyes.
"Uh, every time I'm right." Minako corrected, sipping her mocktail.
" "We don't need men," Usagi said lightly. We're doing perfectly fine on our own."
Makoto snorted. "Give her twenty minutes."
"Twenty minutes until what?" Usagi asked.
"Until you're either flirting with someone or drunk."
"I do not flirt." She argued.
"What about that one time we went out to that fancy masquerade and you confused alcohol for juice? You were very friendly toward the overage men. 'Is your top hat really as big as your---'"
"That's even worse!" They chorused.
Usagi blushed at the memory. The truth is, when she was younger, she was nothing but a crybaby and a klutz. Not that she wasn't now, but the edges around her had definitely softened.
Makoto waved. "We're going to get some snacks. Wanna come with?"
Usagi shook her head. "I'm fine."
Ami called out. "See you, and don't wander off. We'll meet back soon."
Usagi exhaled through her nose. "Okay." She took a sip of her drink. For once, it was too sweet. Everything suddenly felt too vivid. The clinking glasses, the eternal chatter. It felt like her head was being hit by a two-year-old who'd just discovered a hammer.
Her forehead started sweating, the glass in her hand starting to slip from her grasp. Everything felt too warm and too quiet all at once. It was too bright, too noisy. She needed another drink.
She spotted a bar and quickly plopped down on the seat. "A dirty Shirley, please."
The back of her neck was starting to itch too. She quickly reached for a claw clip in her bag to tie her hair—
And dropped it on the wooden floor.
"Shit," She cursed, bending down to pick it up. She sighed as she slumped onto the counter. Coming out here was indeed a bad idea. As much of an extroverted person she was, she really disliked parties. They were more Minako's thing.
However, how Usagi chose to spend her evenings was to watch Pretty In Pink as she kicked up on the couch and gorge on popcorn.
"You look tired," A person seated next to her remarked.
"Oh, I'm fine, thanks." She said without thinking as she downed her beverage. "It's just really loud here."
"I bet," The voice said. "Especially for a first year."
"How did you know I was a first year?" She gasped, still not facing him.
"Given our age gap, I'd assume you're like what, eighteen?"
Age gap?
Usagi finally turned to the man. "Excuse me?"
She stopped short. Either she'd finished her drink too quickly, or she was hallucinating, because there was no way this was happening.
"Fancy meeting you here, Odango." The voice was home to a familiar smirk.
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