LOST LOVE
By Greg Taylor

     Blue hair.  The waitress had blue hair.  The dark haired boy
tightened his grip on the cup in front of him.  Somehow, the hair
colour alone now served as a reminder, even though this woman bore
no other physical resemblance to his first love.  Why did she keep
coming to mind?  He'd finally moved on with the rest of his life! 
Put all of those issues behind him!  Hadn't he?  Hadn't he...?
     A quick sip of coffee, and the teenager relaxed his grip,
trying not to think about it.  Yet the memories remained.  'Why do
things have to be like this?', came the inevitable thought.  'The
past refusing to stay buried, the future playing such nasty
tricks... I mean, really, what is the point to it all?!'  An
irrational rage began to flood through him.  "If anyone has the
answers," he suddenly called out aloud, "I'd like to hear them!!"
     "Urawa?  Ryo Urawa?"
     He froze at the sound of his name.  His head slowly turned,
eyes looking up from the cafe booth.  Almost immediately, they met
those of the tall girl standing nearby.  He recognized her even as
she approached him - the fact that her brown hair was loose, and
not pulled back into the more traditional ponytail, was not enough
to disguise her identity.  What on earth was she doing here?
     "It IS you!" Makoto Kino said brightly.  "Fancy running into
you out in the middle of nowhere!  How long has it been?  Must be
four, maybe five years?"
     Urawa only partly registered what it was that Makoto was
saying, as his brain had already jumped tracks, fearing the worst. 
Namely that if one of the Senshi was here, maybe all of them were! 
And that would mean that SHE was here as well!  The one with the
blue hair...
     "It's too bad I'm the only one around," Makoto continued, as
if reading his mind.  "I've been visiting a friend, taking the
opportunity to relax and let my hair down.  But hey, I'll make sure
to mention to Ami that I saw y--"
     Instinctively, Urawa reached out, seizing the wrist of the
taller girl.  "No," he interrupted quickly.  "No, you mustn't say
anything to her!  Not a thing, you understand??"  It took a moment
before he realized what he was doing, and how displeased Makoto was
becoming at being gripped.  He reopened his hand.
     "Thank you," Makoto said dryly, lightly massaging her right
wrist.  "I was hoping I wouldn't have to make a scene."
     "Sorry," Urawa mumbled in reply, turning to stare back at his
coffee cup.  He refocussed his death grip upon its surface.  A
moment passed before he heard Makoto sliding into his booth, on the
opposite side of the table.
     "Are you all right?" came her voice, in a much softer tone. 
"Is there anything I can do for you?"
     "No," Urawa replied, purely by reflex.  Then he hesitated. 
"That is... well, no.  It's too late for anyone to do anything
now."
     "Are you sure?" Makoto pressed.  "If there's something
bothering you, it might help to talk about it."  She smiled wryly. 
"I am pretty good at keeping secrets, you know."
     Urawa's fingers uncurled from his cup, only to begin drumming
nervously on the table.  Truth be told, he did sort of want to talk
to someone.  And by some strange fluke, he had been presented with
one of the few people who could conceivably understand what his
problems really were!  However, she had such close ties to... to
HER, that...
     "Does this have something to do with Ami?" the brunette
hypothesized.  Urawa raised his head to face Makoto once again.
     "It... it's not only about her," he found himself saying,
shifting his gaze to glance out the window into the dark night.  It
was a darkness broken only by the dim light of a few scattered
street lamps.  "That is... well, it's kind of a long story," Urawa
continued.  "I mean, you know why the two of us broke up, right?"
     Makoto shook her head.  "I know you and Ami only ever went on
a handful of dates," the brunette recalled.  "But she never talked
about why the two of you stopped seeing each other."
     "Oh, didn't she...?"  Urawa felt momentarily taken aback - but
then again, in a way, that made sense.  "I suppose I can understand
why she kept silent," he said after a moment's reflection.  "I'm
almost too ashamed to admit it to myself."
     "Why, what happened?" came the gentle prompt.
     Urawa sighed.  "It was me," he admitted.  "I got scared. 
Scared of what might happen if our relationship were to continue."
     "Well, that's not so unusual," Makoto pointed out.  "A new
relationship is bound to make a person feel a bit nervous and out
of sorts..."
     "No, no, you don't understand," Urawa objected.  "I wasn't
scared about being in the relationship.  I'd gotten over that.  My
fear was over how it was all going to end!"
     Makoto frowned.  "You've lost me."
     Urawa sighed again, watching as a few drops of rain began to
fall, tapping gently on the window.  Makoto waited patiently for
him to continue.  "You remember how I can get visions of the
future?" he asked at last.
     Makoto nodded.  "Sure, that's partly why you were able to
resist the forces of the Dark Kingdom.  Are you saying you had a
vision of your future with Ami?"
     Urawa felt the lump growing in this throat once more.  The
lump, accompanied by the pain that seemed to follow him wherever he
went.  "Yes, I saw her," he said quietly.  "She was lying there in
the frozen snow, her fuku ripped and torn, as she drew in her final
breaths.  I saw it all, Makoto... two days before it happened."
     Makoto's eyes widened.  "You mean... our final battle??"
     "It was in a vision," Urawa affirmed.  "In as much as it
related to Sailor Mercury, at least.  And it felt a hundred times
worse than any other previous vision, because I knew that this
time, there was nothing I could possibly do about it.  I wasn't
even going to be there.  She was going to die, and I would never
even get to see her body."
     "My God," Makoto breathed.  "Did you tell her?"
     "Of course I told her!" Urawa snapped, the anger surging
inside him once more.  "You think I wouldn't try to change that?! 
I tried to think of a million different reasons why she couldn't,
shouldn't, or wouldn't have to go after that damnable Dark Kingdom! 
But what it really came down to was my voice against all of you...
and she couldn't let down the team.  Oh, she said that she'd be
careful, that she'd take every precaution.  But in my heart, I knew
that she wasn't coming back!"
     Makoto glanced around briefly to see if anyone was listening
to them, but it was late, and the cafe was practically empty.  "I
see," she replied slowly.  "Of course, I'm sure you realize that if
you had been successful in convincing Ami to stay away, the Dark
Kingdom probably would have won.  In which case none of us would be
here right now."
     "Yes, I know that!" Urawa said, banging his fist on the
tabletop.  He belatedly realized that raising his voice was not
helping matters any, and worked at reigning in his emotions.  "I
know that," he repeated.  "But when she chose the Senshi, I
realized for the first time how doomed our relationship really was. 
For, no matter what, her duty as Sailor Mercury would always have
to come before me.  One can hardly fault her for that, of course,
but it meant that I would be facing a future where my girlfriend
would be risking her life, day after day.  And I... I simply
couldn't handle that.  I told her as much.  That's why we broke
up."
     Outside, the rain began to fall a little harder.  Inside, a
frown twitched at the corners of Makoto's lips.  "So you two broke
it off over a fear of maybes and what ifs?" she questioned.
     "No, it was more than that," Urawa sighed, raking his hands
back through his hair.  "I mean... all right, think of it this way. 
I'd just seen Mercury die - not for the first time either, remember
I'd seen something similar before Zoisite attacked me?  So even
assuming she survived against the Dark Kingdom, what if I had more
and more visions of the same type?  Could you deal with seeing the
person you loved dying on a regular basis??  Yet if I DIDN'T have
visions, I wouldn't know whether she'd actually make it home safely
that night, or what condition she'd be in when she arrived or
whether I could have saved her..."
     "Whoa, slow down," Makoto broke in.  "Okay, so I guess our
line of work is more hazardous than other jobs.  But you know, Ami
has always been a survivor.  All of us Senshi are."
     "Oh, yes, I know that now," Urawa said bitterly.  "Believe me,
I know that now."
     Makoto blinked at him in surprise.  "Urawa, why take that
tone?"
     "Because!  I... last month... that is..."  Urawa slumped down
completely in his hair.  Might as well put all his cards on the
table.  "Because I met a girl," he admitted sadly.
     Makoto blinked.  "Oh?  Someone like Ami?" she questioned.
     Urawa shook his head.  "No, strangely enough, exactly the
opposite," he answered.  "Long red hair, very outgoing, not
embarrassed by short skirts or public displays of affection at all. 
She was the sort of person I never thought I'd go for, but
somehow... we clicked.  The few weeks that we spent together, they
were some of the happiest of my life."
     "Oh, well, that's nice," Makoto said, still trying to make the
connection.  "What became of her then, did you break up?"
     "No," Urawa declared flatly.  "She's dead."
     There, he'd said it.  It was strange, even at the funeral he'd
had trouble acknowledging the truth... she had looked so peaceful,
lying there in the coffin.  It had been as if she were merely
taking a nap.  A long, quiet, eternal nap.  "It was a car
accident," Urawa continued numbly.  "Drunk driver.  Over a month
ago now.  And the worst part is, I never saw it coming.  My powers
never even hinted at it."  He downed the rest of his coffee.  It
was cold.  Cold like the rain now splattering heavily against the
window pane.
     "Urawa... I'm so sorry," Makoto said, reaching out a hand
towards him.  Urawa pulled his arm back out of reach.
     "So I guess this is my problem," Urawa concluded, all in a
rush.  "What's the point to this inane power of mine if it won't
show me the things I need to see?  Why present me with the death of
my first love, one that I cannot change, yet not the death of my
second - something I might have been able to fix??  I mean, what
sort of sick joke is fate playing on me anyway?!?"  He stopped his
rant, breathing hard.  Makoto didn't answer right away.
     "Urawa," she said at last, choosing her words carefully.  "I'm
sorry that things have turned out this way.  I can still remember
how I felt the day I learned my parents were never coming back. 
Losing someone that you care about is never easy..."
     "Well of course it isn't," Urawa retorted.  "I know that!  But
I also know that Usagi was able to use her power to bring back all
of you.  So why can't my powers be like that?!"  Urawa pounded his
fist down against the table once more, fighting back the urge to
cry.  "Why?  Why am I so powerless to bring back the people that I
care about?  Damn it, it's not fair... it's not fair at all... I
should be the one who's lying dead right now..."
     "Okay, stop right there!" Makoto declared.  "That line of
thinking is never constructive.  Okay, so you've lost someone you
loved.  That's tragic.  But don't think for a moment that your
death wouldn't touch people in the same way!"
     "It wouldn't though," Urawa said, wiping at his eyes.  "I
mean, I may have known a few people in my life, sure - but it's
like you said yourself, we haven't even seen each other in over
four years.  I'm lousy at staying in touch.  How would anyone even
know if I passed away?"
     "I might not know immediately, but when I learned about it, I
would be very upset," Makoto assured him.  "As would Ami and the
other Senshi.  You're a good person, Urawa.  I'm sure you've made
a difference in the lives of a lot of people, don't let yourself
think otherwise."
     Urawa's gaze slipped back down towards the empty cup in front
of him.  "But... but if that's so," he said, trying to keep his
voice from quavering, "If I truly am such a nice person... why have
I been thinking so much about... about..."  He forced out her real
name.  "About A-Ami lately?  It been less than fifty days and
already I'm betraying the memory of my lost love!"
     Makoto reached out for Urawa's hand again, and this time he
did not pull away.  She squeezed his palm gently.  "Urawa," Makoto
said calmly, "Thinking of Ami doesn't necessarily mean you're
betraying anyone."  Urawa blinked up at her uncertainly, Makoto
meeting his gaze with a quiet smile.  "I mean, in this time of
grief, don't you think it's natural to think about a close friend
who would understand your pain?"
     "I... but that's... I mean..."  Urawa paused, struggling with
this new perspective.  "But me and Ami... we were going out!" he
protested at last.  "We were more than friends, and we didn't part
under the best circumstances either."
     "So?" came the brunette's simple retort.
     "So she wouldn't want anything to do with me!"
     "How do you know that?" Makoto inquired.  "Did you have a
vision about it?"
     Urawa frowned.  "That's not funny."
     "It wasn't meant to be.  Look, Urawa, the fact of the matter
is there are no guarantees in life," Makoto said softly.  "So sure,
Ami might despise you and never want to see you again... but
somehow, I don't think that will be the case.  And she would be a
good person to talk to about the ups and downs that come with
having extraordinary powers."
     Urawa shook his head vehemently.  "Even if that's so, I still
can't do it.  All of the issues surrounding that relationship,
they're finally behind me now!"
     "Are they?"
     Urawa opened then closed his mouth.  He pursed his lips. 
"Well, I was dating someone else," he said at last.  Though spoken
aloud like that, the reasoning sounded lame, even to him.
     Makoto pulled her hand back in order to brush some hair off of
her shoulder as she contemplated her best response.  "Look, Urawa,"
she began slowly, "It's not like I'm suggesting you and Ami go out
together.  Only that you talk.  Because I think that you've let a
four year old fear shut out what could have been a very good
friendship."
     Urawa stared back at Makoto for a moment, then closed his eyes
and pressed his palms to his forehead.  "I just want the hurting to
stop," he murmured.  "I want my life to stop turning into a
disaster.  Hell, I want to start making the right decisions for a
change!"
     "Well, what can I say?  We learn by experience," Makoto
soothed.  "You know it's been said that she's the hardest teacher,
because she gives the test first and the lesson afterwards."
     "Yeah, well, it wouldn't be so bad if experience allowed a
little more psychic cheating," Urawa grumbled.  Yet that very
possibility seemed somehow funny, and he couldn't help but let out
a quick burst of laughter.  When he looked back up at Makoto, he
saw that she was smiling at him once again.  Before he realized it,
he was returning that smile.  There was a long pause.
     "Anyway," the brunette Senshi finally continued, "it looks
like we've had a break in the storm."  Urawa blinked, following her
gaze to the window, where the pounding rain had given way to a fine
mist.  "The person I'm staying with will be wondering what's
happened to me by now," Makoto added, "so I'd better get going. 
But think about what we've talked about, Urawa.  Seriously."  She
pulled out a pen and jotted down an address and phone number onto
an unused paper napkin.  "That's where Ami's living these days,"
the brunette clarified.  "I'll leave it up to you as to whether you
call or not.  As promised, I won't breathe a word about our
meeting."
     Urawa nodded in reply and murmured a few brief words of
thanks.  Makoto offered up one final smile as she stood.  "It was
nice running into you again," she said.  "I hope this isn't the
last time we see each other."  Then she was gone.
     Urawa remained seated for a long time after that.  Minutes
blurred into hours; he paid his bill when the waitress brought it,
but he couldn't bring himself to leave.  Not just yet.  After all,
it's not like he had to get home at any particular time, there was
no one waiting for him.  There was also no shortage of seats in the
cafe at this time of night.  So he remained, his attention rivetted
on the napkin in front of him.  The choice was obvious.  Should he
pick it up, or simply leave it sitting there, to be thrown away?
     Naturally, his first instinct had been to get up and leave. 
Because despite what Makoto had been saying, Ami wasn't just an old
friend, she was an ex-girlfriend, and calling her so soon after
losing another such love... well, that would only complicate
things!  Besides, his breakup with Ami... well, he hadn't gone into
detail with Makoto, but it really had been far from mutual.  Ami
hadn't wanted him to go, and even after he had walked away, he knew
she'd held out hope for his return.  That must be why she hadn't
said anything to her friends.  Of course, he hadn't come back...
he'd left her, and right when she had needed him the most... and it
was only now that he knew how that must have felt, having
experienced it for himself...
     Urawa abruptly stood up from the table, not liking the way his
thoughts were going.  He would call Ami after a few more months had
passed, he decided.  After all, she wouldn't be that hard to track
down, being one of the brightest girls in the country.  And there
was always the chance that he would find someone else to talk with
in the interim.  That way he wouldn't have to contact her at all,
and the two of them could continue to lead their separate lives,
going on as they had done for the last four and a half years.  Yes,
yes, they would both be better off that way!
     Urawa turned, striding quickly to the front door of the cafe. 
But even as he reached for the handle, something that Makoto had
said tugged at the back of his mind... the fact that in life, there
are no guarantees.  Even for someone like him, who could see things
yet to come, there were still no guarantees.  So after a month - or
a year, it would make no difference - the question would remain...
could Ami ever forgive him?  And even if she could, would Urawa
ever be able to forgive himself?  He wasn't sure.  Suddenly, he
wasn't sure about a lot of things.  One thing he did know though
was that, once again, he was choosing to walk away.
     The dark haired boy slowly returned to the booth and reached
out for the napkin on the table.  He carefully folded it and placed
it purposefully into his pocket.  He then proceeded out of the
cafe, into the approaching dawn.


Disclaimer: "Sailor Moon" characters were not mine but Takeuchi
Naoko's.  Don't sue, most of my money's in anime merchandise
anyway.