A/N: Written for Natsudori Linako.
Short Skirt
Tuxedo Kamen always kept his eyes averted from Sailormoon – he looked around her and about her, but never at her.
Her fuku was skimpy, almost scandalously so. What would her parents say if they knew? He wondered idly, setting her down and thanking all manner of deities for the way his mask hid his tightly-closed eyes.
No, Tuxedo Kamen would never abuse the poor girl's trust by ogling her ill-clothed form, though he doubted the young senshi would trust him so much if she knew her so-called saviour relied on hear-sight, smell-sight, taste-sight and touch-sight more than eye-sight to sweep her from danger.
He prided himself on his self-control in not looking, though it often seemed that same stoicism seemed lacking about the other senshi – Mars and Mercury's half-clad bodies incited more annoyance than admiration in him, but his mind always shrieked in horror as he thought of the way Moon's slender body was exposed for all to see.
It would simply not do to look. Or have others looking.
You see, it was indecent.
So Tuxedo Kamen leapt with closed eyes behind his opaque mask, and only the draw of her presence saved both their lives countless times as Moon-in-danger beckoned to him and he, feeling quite ridiculous and lecherous for doing so but unable to stop, swept his cape about her in a parody of modesty, and pulled her close.
But one afternoon when he took his ritual leap of faith, he realised that the writhing of his stomach did not stop when he scooped her out of harm's way. Rather, he continued to fall, and his eyes opened desperately, but he could not see daylight, though he saw her…
…and after that, he swore to catch as much a glimpse as he could.
He was, after all, only a man.
A/N: Ehe... so, how about that review now?