Hoping just because I spoke the words that they're true

Most of the time, when he's moving and half in flight, Tuxedo Kamen doesn't feel his weight at all. Steady and surefooted, landing on and springboarding off the most unlikely small or flimsy things. Tonight's different. There was no tainting of dark magic or anything in the fight against the soccer witch in his apartment, but it was a sustained attack, and he wasn't transformed.

He's been taking it easy, and he doesn't really hurt much anymore, but he's more tired than usual -- not hospital-tired, but tired enough that it shows in his motions.

He lands on the roof Makoto designated in her text, and instead of the light ta-tap of dress shoes against painted tar, it's a fairly solid landing, and he almost misses his saving balance throw. "Sailor Jupiter," he says warmly, if slightly concerned.

Sailor Jupiter is, of course, waiting on the rooftop, arms folded loosely in front of her as she gazes off across the skyline. She's been thinking about how to have this conversation. It hasn't been easy.

When Tuxedo Kamen makes his landing she turns to face him, letting her hands drop to her sides. Her head dips in greeting, a little smile flicking across her face - an uncertain, awkward thing that disappears quickly. "Tuxedo Kamen-san," she says, greeting for greeting.

Then she pauses and looks at him a little more closely. He's not quite carrying himself like he usually does. After a moment's pause, she decides not to ask. "I'm sorry to call you out here like this," she says instead. "Thanks for coming. There's something I needed to ask you."

"...and in person," the masked older boy says contemplatively. He moves to lean against the roof wall, loosely crossing his own arms. There's no hat, which is more normal than not these days, and his fine black hair's ruffled by the breeze. "Ask away."

He's quiet and still, but that's also more or less business as usual if they're not in the middle of a fight-- but she hasn't seen much of him outside fights, has she? Either way, he's probably not helping the sense of awkward.

Again that brief, awkward smile flicks over Jupiter's face, before she glances away. "I figured it probably wasn't something I should try to talk about over the phone," she says.

Drawing in a breath, she brings her eyes back to his. Her brows have drawn together a little, making a faint furrow in her forehead; she looks uncomfortable about what she's about to ask, but serious enough to push on with it anyway.

"...How do you feel about Sailor Moon?"

Immediately, the face under that mask pinks, and Tuxedo Kamen feels as awkward as Sailor Jupiter. First he glances away, and then there's this small, small smile-- one she's seen before, but where? It isn't important. What's important is that he raises a fist to cough lightly behind it, then clears his throat. "She's so brave," he says quietly, then lifts his eyes to meet Makoto's.

"She's scared, but she acts anyway. She shines like a star. Her heart is so strong," he says, and suddenly he's intent, leaning forward a little, and one white-gloved hand's held to his chest. "It sings so loudly," he elaborates, earnest, his blue eyes shining bright behind that luminous outline of a mask, "that mine can hear it. How do you think I always know where to go to come help her? I want to always be there to answer that call, Sailor Jupiter. No matter what other goals I may have, no matter that you don't know who I am, you can trust that I will always try to protect that bright star."

He's so earnest, so genuine in his admiration that Sailor Jupiter can't help but smile a little... but it's a pained thing, too, her heart squeezing in her chest. Such beautiful words, but they're not for her.

Half the things that she'd wanted to ask, to say, shrivel up and crumble away under the intensity of those bright, shining eyes. She looks away again, up at the night sky, rather than go on meeting his gaze. "I know," Jupiter says, because it isn't that she doubts him. Not like he might fear she does, at least.

With her face still turned partly away from him, she asks: "And me?"

Here's where the boy in the cape and mask pushes off where he's leaning, not entirely sure where this conversation is headed, or in fact, where it actually came from. He feels slightly like he came to audition for Hamlet and got handed a script for George and the Dragon, so he does what he can--

--and if he knows one thing about Makoto Kino, it's that she takes the most comfort from that which he rarely grants. She's half turned from him, but he steps closer and puts a warm gloved hand on her shoulder.

Mamoru's voice is gentle. "You're brave and true and very precious to me, and you've protected me more than anyone else has in this life. If I make you angry, I do everything I can to fix it, because your opinion matters so much. I'm not very good at being a friend, and I hide by necessity-- but when I find my answers, and I can tell all of you who I really am, I hope you'll let me try to be the kind of friend you deserve."

Makoto's shoulder hitches slightly when his hand settles against it, but only for a moment before it relaxes again. She still doesn't look at him, though. She stands very still, listening as he speaks with her gaze focused somewhere a long way off.

"...I see," she says when he's finished, and then her head hangs downward as the breath goes out of her in a sound a little bit like a laugh. "Suddenly I feel really stupid," Sailor Jupiter admits quietly. "I guess I made you come out here for no reason. Sorry."

Not even contact helped. Tuxedo Kamen looks helplessly at Makoto, not even really sure what's going on. His hand slides off her shoulder, and his bag of social how-to tricks is empty, and he takes a step back and away. "You're not stupid," he says in a low voice, and there's an edge of something defensive in there. "Don't ever think you're stupid." Then much softer, behind her in the darkness, "Hang in there, Sailor Jupiter. Happiness will find you, I'm sure of it."

When she turns around, he's gone, swift and silent.

"Thank you," Makoto murmurs, but maybe he's already gone by then. There was more that she wanted to say, but maybe it's better not to after all. This is awkward enough, and she knows it's not his fault.

It just... is.

So Sailor Jupiter simply stands there for a little while after he's left, holding her hand curled loosely against her chest over her heart. It's not at all unlike the hand Tuxedo Kamen pressed to his own chest when he spoke of Sailor Moon; when she opens that hand, extending it out in front of her, a stemless rose blooms cupped in her palm.

She lets the petals scatter into the wind.