He was nervous. More nervous than he'd ever been before. He couldn't say why, not really anyways… After all, who wouldn't be nervous, leaping across buildings to jump into a battle with little to no power to fight back with? A sigh. The masked male leapt from the tower he had paused on and let his body sail downwards, his mind drifting to the blonde, odango-haired soldier he knew he'd come across. She was strong and able, yet frightened and sometimes unwilling. She seemed to carry herself like a soldier, yet had no idea what she was doing. He longed to be by her side, to protect her, help her… Yet, he enjoyed watching from afar, seeing her capabilities and watching her grow.

Sticking a perfect landing, he took to the street at a run, his feet carrying him in the direction he needed to go. Sure enough, he spotted them, the four guardian senshi as they battled it out with what looked to be a wave of enemies. As he approached, he realized it was multiples of the very same youma, telling him immediately that only one of those enemies was the original and that left the rest to be copies. But which one was the original? He could see the girls were handling it (mostly) on their own; the red clad senshi had spread her fire and took out three, only to have four more spring up. He heard their voices, hers in particular, shrill as she cried out in fear. He leapt up to the safety of the nearest lamp post, knowing this was not yet his moment to strike.

She couldn't believe it; just as soon as they knocked one enemy down, more sprung up in its place. She was sweating, she was tired, and she was beginning to feel helpless. Across the way, Mercury diligently scanned with her computer in an attempt to narrow it down to which of the youma were the original one and thus the source of the copying. Blue eyes were wide as they swept the area, the Moon Stick gripped tightly in her right hand; as she glanced around at her fellow guardians, she knew that they were growing weary as well. They needed to finish this battle and finish it fast.

"There!" Suddenly Mercury cried out, raising a gloved hand to point at the enemy directly in the center. At once all the copies fazed back together and the original, a nameless member of the Dark Kingdom, snickered as it raised its hands up in a gesture of attack. The four senshi stood their ground, attacks prepared, their attention on the monster before them. None of them could see the one creeping up upon them… No one except for him.

He could see the one copy that had not returned to the original, instead it had disappeared from sight, reappearing only once a distraction was given. It had reappeared directly behind the blonde senshi, who's eyes were focused on the monster before her. She gripped tightly to her Moon Stick, her every intention to blast the thing into smithereens. To her left, Mars had caught wind, her psychic abilities giving her the slightest of advantages. "Sailor Moon!" She cried out, throwing out a hand, but there was no time. There was no stopping what was to come. Except…

Her hair whipped around her lithe frame as she spun, but she knew she was a moment too late; there was nothing she could do but throw her arms up and hope she could take the blast. She threw her arms up over her face and prepared for the pain… But she heard someone calling out to her, a familiar male voice, and rather than the pain of an attack she felt the solid force of a body crashing into her. She was sent flying, the body falling over hers when she'd landed on the ground a few foot back. A shocked gasp escaped her lips as she took in the sight before her; a slightly askew mask… a flowing cape… the glimpse of a single, beautiful blue eye… "Tuxedo Kamen!" Her voice rang out as she reached for him, his groan full of pain as he shifted, turning slightly to look at her.

"Sailor… Moon… The youma!" He grunted, clenching his jaw with the pain; reaching one hand up, he adjusted the mask upon his face, eyes watching as she rose up with a single nod. He watched through half-closed eyes as she raised her arms up over her head and called forth the tremendous power she kept locked away. So much power he could hardly yet comprehend it. She seemed stronger with every single battle she fought.

In an instant the monster was dust and she had dropped back by his side, her wand discarded, her features contorted with her concern. "Are you alright?" She asked, a hand tentatively reaching out to touch his hand, blue eyes wide in her face. At the touch, it was as if he'd been submerged in water, leaving him with a sense of drowning, his brain foggy. A flicker of memory drew him in, a memory that was almost too distant for him to quite yet grasp… There she was, looking up at him with those wide, frightened eyes… With her long, flowing hair falling across her shoulders, one single strand falling into her face. He found he longed to reach out, to brush it aside… He could smell something burning, could feel her tremble beneath his touch. "Tuxedo Kamen!" Her voice brought him back and it was as if he was breaking the surface of the water. Sailor Moon was staring at him with wide, nervous eyes; his hand had outstretched, the tips of his fingers just barely touching the curve of her cheek. Suddenly, the world became clear again. Struggling up, he drew his hand away and he felt her warm, gloved hands on his shoulders, giving him the little bit of help he needed to sit fully upright. Behind her, her three comrades had gathered, all of them looking on with worried expressions. "You saved me." He turned his eyes upon her and found hers had become full of tears, her lower lip wobbling as she clearly tried not to cry. "You always save me but not like that."

He laughed softly, something between an amused chuckle and cocky scoff. "I'm fine, really," he said, rising to his full height, pulling her along with him. "See?" He turned slightly, offering her a better view of his left side; the material of his suit jacket was singed, but the skin beneath was only a little bit burned. Not nearly as bad as it could have been. He could see the relief spread to her features and he gestured for her to go on, lifting his eyes to meet with one of the other senshi. The dark-haired girl seemed to understand because she stepped up, slinging a single arm around her waist. "You did good tonight," he said with a grin, watching as a delighted smile spread across her face.

"Thank you," she said, holding up her hand in a gesture of victory, her soft laugh filling him with a warmth he couldn't explain. He watched as she and her comrades raced down the street and then were gone, as if they'd vanished into the darkness. A sigh escaped him and he closed his eyes, a moment later his tuxedo gone and replaced with his street clothes. He turned to go, but couldn't help but to turn back one last time, to see if he could still see her… But, she was gone and so he turned, his steps leading him back to home.

[ x x x ]

He'd woke feeling anxious and flighty; it'd prompted him to an early start, rushing out of the door for a morning jog earlier than usual. He'd dreamt of her again… Of that girl, with the long hair, with the crying eyes… He just wished he could figure out what made her cry. And just what the ginzuishou was. He recalled how he'd heard that talking cat that accompanied Sailor Moon mention it and he wondered why they wanted it too. A sigh and he tried to push all of those thoughts from his mind. He tried to focus on the music blaring in his ears and the thumping of his heart in his chest.

When he had circled the park twice, Mamoru decided to call it a day. He jogged across the bridge and took a right, his usual path home. He was mid-turn when bam! he crashed right into someone. The girl let out a squeak and stumbled back, nearly tripping over her own feet, but she managed to catch herself at the last second. "I'm sorry!" They both said in unison and then their eyes met; he watched as her face changed, her blue eyes narrowing, her mouth tightening. "Oh. Of course, it's you. I should have known," she grumbled, folding her arms over her chest, chin jutted to the side.

"You're up exceptionally early, Odango-atama," he joked, enjoying the look that passed over her face at his words. He could not help but to notice how adorable she was when she was upset, so it ward hard to not continue to pester her. It was odd to see her in something that was not her school uniform, but it was Saturday so naturally she'd not be dressed like that. Instead she wore a simple white, pleated skirt and a light pink blouse with impossibly tiny buttons going down the front. "You can't possibly be dressed for a date, there's no guy in the world who'd go out with you."

"Oh, you're so rude!" She cried, jabbing a finger into his chest, her right foot stomping in her frustration. "I'm going to meet my friends, thank you very much," she snapped, returning to her previous stance of arms folded, head turned to the side, her nose in the air. Her cheeks were pink and she shifted her gaze to his face, as if she was determined to stay mad at him. "And you're in my way." She said a moment later, her hands now fists at her sides as she strode past him, purposely bumping shoulders with him as she went by.

"Hey, Odango-atama," he called out as she went by, watching in amusement as she stopped, turning slowly around to face him again. "Have fun." Her expression then changed, softening slightly, her blue eyes bright in the sunlight. To his surprise, she didn't have anything to say, instead she merely raised a hand to offer him the universal symbol of "victory" as she grinned at him. Then she turned and was gone, her long hair trailing after her as she went. The simple gesture left him feeling strange, as it reminded him of the night before, when Sailor Moon had given him the very same one. Mamoru could not help but to have a laugh at his own expense, the very thought of her reminding him of the senshi laughable. For a moment he turned back, as if hoping he might catch one last glimpse of her, but no she'd disappeared around a corner; a sigh and he resumed his jogging, his feet carrying him down the path to home. Though she had gone from his sights, she'd remain on his mind for the rest of the day… The shine of her eyes, the pitch of her voice, and the bounce of her hair. It all was on his mind, always passing by like a once forgotten, distant memory.