“Sailor Moon -”

His words die in his throat, even as he searches for a reason not to turn around and leave. He shouldn’t linger. He has to find the silver crystal.

Sailor Moon’s eyes light up as he calls out, and she closes the distance between them.

Tuxedo Mask doesn’t know what to say. What is there to say?

“Your bow.”

It’s come untied in the fighting, hanging loose over her chest.

“Oh…”

She moves to fix it, but his fingers are quicker, like a striking snake. There is a moment of almost-contact between them as he ties the ribbon.