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Trapped!

by Eternal Angel

anna@wishing-blue.net

http://anna.wishing-blue.net/

Chapter 1: To Do List

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There were various things that Chiba Mamoru had on his to-do list. There were some household things such as "do the laundry", "pay the bills", and "buy some chocolate", and there were other active things such as "go to the social on June 8th", or "buy another green blazer to annoy Motoki". But, even though this to do list were very extensive and detailed with things ranging from all sorts of importance to mind manner reminders, there was one thing that was left out of his list that his parents had circled, highlighted, and wrote in thick permeate marker on their list.

"Marry off Mamoru."

He had of course seen blatant note the other day when he had visited his parents, like he always did each Sunday. The note was obviously meant for him to read as sat in the living room of his parents two-story house, waiting for his mother to finish setting up dinner. He sat on the sofa adjacent to his father's leather couch that his father himself was sitting in, reading the newspaper. He raised his eyebrow at the note that was left out on the coffee table on the "To-Do List" stationary, which his mother had also given him. It was sort of eerie, as if it was beckoning him to do something he didn't really want to do. It wasn't as if he wasn't attractive enough to get the attention of women. But Mamoru also thought that women were nuisances. He also found that they were always wanting this and that, acting all pathetic and pretending to be cute. Other than his mother, he didn't think he truly loved any other women on earth (or ever would). He had already been burned in his high school years. He had fallen for a lovely girl who was his senior. Beautiful green eyes, deep black hair, and a body the male student body lusted after, she was everything a guy of that age wanted. But of course, she, being the attractive fox that she was, played him like a fool.

He didn't bother to trust any other women after that. But then again, none of them ever seemed trustworthy enough for him.

He stared at the note some more, picked it up, and turned the notepad upside down in a satisfying manner. "Note be gone," he thought with an amused expression. His mother soon called him to dinner as she looked down onto the coffee table and frowned.

"You saw it, didn't you?" She asked him, one of her hands went to her hips in a sassy manner. "And what do you have to say about it?"

"Saw what? What's for dinner, Mom?" He asked innocently, as he walked into the kitchen, his father following him from his place from the coach, discarding his newspaper on the coffee table.

"You know Mamoru, you aren't getting any younger!" His mother scolded him, glaring at the back of his head with a scary expression that made chills go down his spine.

"I wouldn't want to get any younger." He responded cleverly, as he held out a chair for his fuming mother to sit in. "Come on, I'm twenty-eight. I've still got many years ahead of me."

She pouted then, looking wistful. "But Mamoru, I want grandchildren."

He sat down noticing that his father had not commented at all. Then again, he was probably wise enough to know that adding his two cents wouldn't be a good idea. Still his father had to try his hardest to sniffle back a laugh as Mamoru responded to her quite innocently.

"So –you thought about adoption already…?" Mamoru asked her, looking sincere. His mother let out a frustrated grumble of nonsensical words, before stabbing the bean sprouts onto a plate, scrapping her semi-fine china into pieces.

Mamoru couldn't help but feel proud.

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His mother stopped calling him for a few days.

He didn't mind though. Heavens, it was a blessing that she stopped pestering him, with her firm yet very frail voice that made him feel bad for not doing what she said. But still, getting married wasn't something that he wanted to do. Heck, he loved being a bachelor; he had lived in his 'bachelor' pad for the past five years and it was still unruffled with any female trinkets such as flowers or doilies, or the toilet seat being down. His neat and spacious flat was chock-full of masculinity from the black and simple interior to the beef that sat in his freezer, waiting for him to make into steak.

Who needed a woman to ruin this great setup that he had?

His mother, who had broke and called him after the fourth day, scolded him and told him, "There are just some things you can't do without a woman."

"Like what?" He asked his mother, as he held the cordless phone in his ear, as he took out the slab of beef to defrost before he fried it up and made it into steak. His mother responded in a simple and perky voice, "Sex."

Mamoru dropped the phone.

The last thing ever that he needed to hear was his mother tell him that he needed a wife so that he could have sex. No wait, it wasn't that, but the last thing Mamoru needed to hear from his mother was that WORD coming out of her mouth. Yes, it was a well-known act that he knew she knew and she knew he knew, but never did they ever jump into the boat as to acknowledge that fact because it was… it was…

He picked up the phone from its place on the kitchen floor, shuddering.

"Mom, I don't really need to hear that from you," he said, in a curt voice, knowing that for some reason he knew that he needed the steak more than ever now. For some reason he knew that some part of his manliness will somehow depart after this conversation with his mother.

He stabbed the meat some more, hoping that the frost would hurry up and disappear.

"Come on, Mamoru, you know you that an active young man like yourself should marry off so that he can produced some offspring before it's too late. You may be young and vibrant now, but sooner or later you're going to turn into a crusty old man and who are you going to get to marry you lest have your children?"

"I heard that some old men impregnate their wives even into their sixties." Mamoru responded, simply.

"Mamoru, recent studies show that lonely, single men die first. Trust me, Mamoru, when I say this, you are not going to make it even close to sixty if you keep the status quo."

He stabbed a fork into the stab of meat, hard, as the juice squirted itself out of it, slowly dripping out. He shuddered, "Thank you Mom, for your assessment of my life line."

He concluded that the steak had defrosted enough.

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His mother had blackmailed him into going to dates with prospective marriage partners the following week. It started after she read a romance novel where the mother of the hero posts up an ad on the newspaper with a very strappingly handsome picture of the hero on it with the words millionaire, desperate, and marriage somewhere in the ad column. Mamoru was, of course, not any that was mentioned. Mamoru was slightly better off than an average salary worker, but way off and away from being a millionaire. Thus, that was the reason why he had agreed to going to these prospective marriage meetings with of course, no intention of getting married. He must admit though, the crop that he had to choose from wasn't really all that great either.

He had met various girls, from quiet shy ones to loud sly ones. Of course they weren't so bad, if you liked fake, desperate, and even lecherous women. But the one that was most frustrating would be Gigi. She wore a pair of dark sunglasses and a scarf as if she was some Hollywood movie star that everyone must marvel at. She must have had some plastic surgery because he could tell that more than one part of her body was fake and he wasn't even going to mention which part. Each conversation he had with these women were always the same too – what you do for a living, what are your interests, and do you like children? After the first couple of times, he decided to be creative, although one of his creative creations caused his date to pour her soup on his head, (but he wasn't going to take too much into what brought that about only that he was from now on to be careful about the topic of anime being art or just a form of random cartoon). Yes sir, he had to be careful about that from now on…

"Gigi said she really liked you and really wishes you accepted the proposal although Himiko has said she never wanted to speak to you or hear your name ever again. Shall I wonder what had happened, Mamoru?" His mother asked, as he sat at the dinner table. He shrugged. "Tell Gigi I have no interest in marrying her, and as for Himiko…She was a very strange girl. Can you pass me the rice?"

His mom handed him the rice with a distant sigh. "Mamoru, you know if you don't find a girl soon I may have to do something drastic." She told him, with a stern look. Mamoru turned to his father. "She isn't going to do her newspaper ad plan, is she? Does she know that libel is illegal?"

But Mamoru could feel something inside of him quaver. He had concluded a long time ago that his mother, when put her mind to something, was a very scary woman. EXTREMELY, ABSOLUTELY, POSITIVELY frightening beyond anything imaginable. He looked at his father with Bambi eyes, pleading him to save him from this monster…he meant his mother.

His father opened his mouth but was soon interrupted by his mother. "Honey, don't you DARE tell him. You see, I want him to fear for his life."

Mamoru swallowed hard as the rice bowl was passed to him.

"No thanks, I think I lost my appetite."

His mother let out an evil cackle.

For someone who has been telling him over and over again that she was going to die soon, she was having way too much fun with this.

His father looked sympathetically at him.

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He checked the personal ads everyday in the newspaper, because he didn't know what his mother was up to. After a couple of days of not seeing it in the newspapers, he couldn't help but feel uneasy. He especially began to feel uneasy when he noticed how the stand sold more than one newspaper everyday. Additionally, it also sold magazines… Glossy magazines that woman would read from cover to cover…



"One of everything." Mamoru mumbled to the man who stared at in him surprise.

"One of everything? Even of the Teen Beat?" He asked, looking at Mamoru slightly… Mamoru shifted uncomfortably. Mamoru racked his head for an excuse that he could possibly come up with. And of course he was only able to think up something that was pretty… lame.

"I'm dating a high school student," Mamoru explained. "I stood her up yesterday so I thought I'd buy her stuff that she likes and give it to her, you know, so she'd stop being so mad at me. I know she likes to read a magazine, but I forget which one."

The man seemed to buy that, as he nodded. "Yeah, a high school student. I want me one of those." He told Mamoru, as he put the newspapers and magazines into two paper bags. "Well, I hope you two make up."

Mamoru coughed. "Uhh, thanks."

Mamoru walked away with the two bags with a shudder. 'High school student,' he balked, 'that's more than ten years younger than me and so…'

He shuddered again pondered how his mind capacity couldn't think of anything better than that excuse. But then he remembered, he had a lot of stress because of his mother and therefore was allowed to be as lame as he wanted to be.

That thought, sadly enough, made him feel better as he walked back to his flat, with the bags of newspapers and magazines in his hand. "Now all I got to do is read all of these."

He did too. He looked through the newspapers first before going through the magazines. He found out many things about the government as well as how that movie star that he liked was caught shoplifting at some store and how scientist finally think they found a way to make soda less fattening but the side effects includes sleep loss and the urge to run around in circles. He was halfway through Teen Beat when the doorbell rang. Teen Beat was actually a very interesting magazine, he laughed at the way the magazine assumed guys acted and was even more amused at how they obsessed over clothing. He was halfway through the article about Lizzie McGuire when the doorbell rang.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," he muttered, putting down the magazine, and hoping that it wasn't his mother. He was already up to his neck reading all of these magazines and newspapers and trying to figure out if she put anything in any of these publications about him. He opened the door.

"Yes?" He said, as the girl pushed the doorbell again. She looked at him then, her blue eyes shining, her golden hair cascading, floating around her and her pretty blue dress. She had a huge grin on her mouth and two suitcases plopped down next to her.

He raised his eyebrow.

"Are you Chiba Mamoru?" The girl asked him, as she reached for her pocket to pull out a … picture of him?

"Yes…"

She grinned. "That's GREAT then!"

She then wrapped both arms around his neck, reached up, and kissed him hard. Her body pressed against his own as her lips tasted sweet against him as he stood there, surprised at her action. She soon left his lips, yet still stayed pressed up against him, her face still close to his face.

"Hello, my name is Tsukino Usagi, I'm your mail-order bride."

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I: I have been writing a ton of comedy lately. I wonder why that is – should I worry? Is my sense of humor even funny? *sighs* the contemplating that I have!

II: Thank you to Ekaterinn for editing my story, you rock lovely. Thank you to Stef for also reading my story as I feed it to you. I'm glad you enjoyed.

III: This story is for Kii and Brow, I love you both!