Tuxedo Mask is always there to help out the senshi when he can, but that’s not his only job…
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“What is net force the rope would need to sustain in order for the shelf to remain aloft?” Hirohoto-sensei asked, turning around to face the class. I used several substitutions to separate the unknowns, then using Newton’s second law to bring them all together, separate the answer out and solve for the mission tension force. It was a quick exercise, riddled with a step or two most would probably missed, but I believed I had the correct answer. I neatly boxed the final statement in and glanced up, meeting Hirohoto-sensei’s gaze steadily. He smiled and nodded imperceptibly, looking to other to students to see if any had devised a solution. I kept my gaze forward; looking around to rate my performance based on the speed of the rest of the class had never been very interesting for me. Nine times out of ten I was the first, especially in physics, but recently I’ve started rooting for the classmates I started helping after school.
It was nice of them to ask, actually; my reputation of being so near the top of the school usually made them wary of me, but ever since I started playing sports they’ve seemed to warm to me, as if I had finally become part of their team. It was a good feeling, to be seen as a friend rather than a superior.
“Chiba-san, your solution?”
“The rope would need to be able to sustain a constant net force of 70 newtons in order to remain on the wall without strain,” I replied on cue. Hirohoto-sensei nodded appreciatively and turned to the board to work through the equation for the rest of the class.
“Great job, Chiba-san,” a voice whispered from behind. I turned and nodded to Hansa-san, who was smiling and offering me a thumbs-up. I looked back to my notebook. It was nice.
:
Classes ended, and clubs began. I changed into my soccer uniform and ran out onto the field. It was a brilliant day; the sun felt great on his skin, and the exercise was welcome. Less than an hour into practice, however, I got this strange feeling in the pit of my stomach. I stopped and rested, my hands on my knees, as the team continued to chase the ball across the field. What was this feeling?
“Chiba-san, you alright?” Tanso-san, the club president, stopped beside me, “Do you need a break?”
It was as if my stomach was on fire. It wasn’t like a cramp, or a sprain, but more like acid reflux. My brows furrowed in discomfort, “Nah, I’m fine,” I said, shaking it off. But minutes later the feeling intensified, and I had to leave. I thanked the president, told him of my stomach pains, and left the school, my bags casually tossed over my shoulder as I headed back towards my apartment.
Or so everyone would think.
Once away from the school I stashed my belongings in a safe place and glanced around to see if anyone was watching. No one was. I bent down, placed my hands flat on the ground, closed my eyes, and concentrated. It was like a movie in my head – a path through the streets of Tokyo, heading towards the outer limits, passed a factory, and there he found it: a disturbance in Earth’s ecosystem. Men in jumpsuits were pouring barrels filled with toxic waste into a stream, soaking into the soil and poisoning the earth. They had to be stopped. They and their corporate bosses.
He was off.
:
There they were. Yellow jumpsuits, talking genially to one another as they hoisted another barrel of toxic ooze over their shoulders and tossed it casually behind a privacy barrier. This would not continue. As I glowered in their general direction, I held out my hand and a rose appeared. With a swishing motion and a rush of energy, my soccer uniform disappeared and the familiar weight of the tuxedo, cape, top-hat and mask fell into place. I was ready. With a good spring, I launched into the air to land nimbly atop an overhanging lamppost.
“How dare you sully beautiful Mother Earth with your noxious toxins!” I yelled, catching their attention as I posed formidably with my arms crossed. “Streams are for fish, frogs, and the creatures that eat them! This lovely and picturesque vista should not suffer the contamination of the corrupt corporations content with cut-rate clearance of cantankerous refuse!” Alliteration. Nice. I allowed myself a smirk as I glared down at them.
“Who are you?!” one of the jumpsuits cried in a mix of disbelief, annoyance and a touch of uncertain fear.
“I am Tuxedo Mask!” I yelled, jumping down to land before them menacingly, “And you are going to take these barrels back to your truck and drive me to your boss!”
“Who says?” the surly man scowled.
“I do!” I declared, grabbing the neck of his uniform and pulling him closer. I was a good head taller than he and could see my eyes through the mask, reflected in his. His pupils expanded in fear. “Now hurry up!” I barked, throwing him back down and standing back for the wind to catch my cape.
Bully tactics were not always the best option, but in this case the sooner they pick up the sludge the better. It only took a few more menacing pronouncements and one good cane threat, before the mess was cleaned up, the barrels back on their truck, and they were driving back to their corporate offices. I followed behind them, hopping from building to building as they snaked through the streets and ducked into the underground parking lot of a large office suite. I jumped to the ground and pulled out some red spraypaint and my custom-made stencil and made quick work of their gray-concrete wall. In seconds I was racing to catch up to them to follow them in through the parking lot doors, leaving behind a hand-sized picture of a rose.
We rose through an elevator to the top floor and I burst through the lobby with long, strong strides, holding my cane in one gloved hand and waving off a startled and stuttering secretary with the other. I pushed through expansive wooden doors and found myself standing at the head of a board meeting. Excellent.
“Who are—“ one man in an expensive suit started to stand, but I walked over and pushed him back in his seat.
“I am a representative of Earth,” I stated, “And I’m here to tell you that nature isn’t as defenseless as it seems. Find another way to dispose of your waste. If I find your company or any offshoots of your company dumping waste by unsanctioned ways you will learn first-hand of the wrath of Earth.”
One of the younger members started to laugh, and I silenced him with a rose that penetrated through his leather folder to thunk a good inch into the mahogany table beneath. He cried out and jumped back, glaring up at me.
“Next time, it will be in your throat.” I stated threateningly, not quite knowing if I would really carry through with the threat, but it had the intended effect: the room was eerily silent. “Remember my words. Respect Earth.” I turned and approached the window, leaving the rose where it was; it wouldn’t wilt or die, but remain as a reminder of the day. With one kick the glass fell out, glittering in tiny pieces towards the emptied street below, and I grabbed my cape and jumped, soaring over to the top of the next building over, then jumped to the next and the next, making as memorable an exit as an entrance. I was fairly certain they wouldn’t try that again.
But as I was hopping back to where I had stored my things, another sense started tugging at me and I paused. She was in trouble. I changed directions and rushed off, hoping I wouldn’t get there too late.
I am Mamoru Chiba, and this is my life. Saving my Love by Moonlight, Fighting Pollution by Daylight, with my Alliterative Skills to distract from a Fight, I am the one named TUXEDO MASK.
Happy Earth Day, Citizens.