Part two, drabble 2: Masks
Usagi found the mask in a thrift shop.
'Replica Tuxedo Kamen Mask', the sign proclaimed. 'A bargain at twelve hundred yen!'
There were maybe thirty of them, the stiff white fabric smooth and bright. Usagi fished in her pocket for her wallet, which contained a few notes and some change, totaling a little over two thousand yen.
"Perfect," Usagi said, lifting a mask off the top of the pile, "and I'll still have enough for a milkshake at the arcade."
The world looked different through the mask, Usagi decided. She wondered if this was the same view that Tuxedo Kamen saw, as though they were some how cosmically linked through the view from this plain white mask.
She could even see his face; those mesmerizing blue eyes framed so dramatically by white satin. They seemed so hauntingly familiar, like a faded photograph, a memory she just couldn't quite grasp.
Perhaps she'd met him. She supposed he had to have a civilian identity, like she and the rest of the senshi did. Would she recognize him? Could the mask that hid his identity from the world be used to uncover his secrets?
She slid her fingers along the smooth material as she sipped her milkshake, idly wondering if maybe she and Tuxedo Kamen had ever crossed paths in civilian form.
"What's that?"
She started at the sound of Motoki's voice, and held up the mask for him to see.
"Oh, it's just a replica of Tuxedo Kamen's mask," she said. "Isn't it neat?" She held it over her eyes, striking a pose.
"You look ridiculous, Odango," Mamoru said, as he settled on the barstool a few feet away. Usagi scowled, whirling to berate him.
"Who asked you, Mamo…" her voice faded as the mask slipped from her fingers unnoticed.
Those eyes. HIS eyes.
Mamoru's gaze drifted away, as though he couldn't quite meet her intense stare. Equally unnerved, Usagi turned her attention back to her milkshake.
'No, surely not,' she told herself. 'You're only imagining things.'