And crawled head downward down a blackened wall
And upside down in air were towers
===
"Take off your mask," the reporter said, and Sailor V faltered on the edge of the rooftop.
She smiled coyly. "Our first meeting, and you want me to take off my mask." Her missed balance became a hop and then she was balancing on the cement edging, looking back at him. He had an earnest look about him, sincere even in the moonlight.
"The whole city's in a row over you," he told her, still holding his spiral-bound notebook as he wandered closer. "Who is that masked maiden, anyway? Where does she come from? Is she sweet like sugar? Or are little girls like her really just puppy dog tails in disguise?"
She chortled, shaking her head. "You think I'd give away my secret to just anyone?" she asked, hopping over a crack. Step on a crack, break your mother's back. All the little girls at the school across from her parents' flat sung that song. "A secret is a secret. I only give it away to people I trust."
"You don't trust me?" he asked.
"I don't even know your name, Mr. Star Reporter." She glanced over her shoulder. "For all I know, you're one of my enemies."
"You're young to have enemies."
"Everyone does." She skipped over the seam in the concrete, murmuring, "'Step on a line and you break mum's spine.'"
"Hmm?"
She stopped and, in one swift movement, pivoted to glance over at him. "Just a rhyme."
His head was tilted to the side and his eyes carefully honed in on her. "A nursery rhyme," he pointed out.
"Still a rhyme," she said, and went back to walking along the perimeter.
The next morning, the column, "Who is that masked maiden, anyway?" ran in the paper, and Aino Minako was both shocked and, perhaps, a little amused to read the byline of "Alan Spaulding, Mr. Star Reporter."
