I stood there, having stopped him and his friends in the hall. I stuttered half a minute until he rolled his eyes. I blushed. Barely appropriate for getting what I needed in middle school; embarrassing at university. I'd turned to stone in his cockatrice gaze as he spoke. "You're tall, plain, gawky, lacking any curves, almost flat. Your magic lacks power. Smart, I'll grant you that much, but timidity is /never/ attractive, nor is it sexy."

I stuttered, arms crossed, hands clasped at waist level, protecting my—

I was a graduate student Phd candidate in Calculative Thaumaturgy. I taught classes, one that he attended. He was a year from his baccalaureate. Yet, /physically,/ he was my /everything./ A whiff of his lavender cologne would turn me in a hall, looking into classrooms. Very intelligent, too, despite his arrogance. I could /learn/ things from him, in addition to what my betraying body wanted to learn.

His friends laughed with him as they turned, walking away, leaving me—

Mortified.

I still wanted him. Hormones and pheromones? Doubtless. I'd made a scene. I heard hushed voices, found impetus, and rushed away.

I sat at my desk in the graduate dorm, wiping hot tears that had come unexpectedly. I wasn't sure I liked myself, but my late mother's words echoed in my head and I pulled out the contents of the bottom drawer.

A white noh mask. Black sumi-e brush strokes were incised through the surface, implying a face and a kanji at the same time, but spelled nothing. Splashes of red and yellow paint hinted it represented a lion.

"If you need courage or solace, wear it," Mother had said on her death bed, wounded in battle. She'd lived a full life, nonetheless. An anonymous war orphan as a toddler, she'd gone on to rule a prefecture.

On the inner surface was inscribed 貪欲. /Avarice./The kanji glowed faintly electric blue, only when you read them.

Two hours later, I put it on. It fit perfectly, as if carved for my face. Assembled of worked bone, the interior nonetheless felt soft and silky against my forehead, temple, and chin. I smelled chrysanthemums. I breathed in freely and felt immediately better. I felt...

Powerful...

Hidden...

Anonymous...

The mask thumped on the blue carpeted floor. I found myself in a different dorm. Undergraduate. Institutional white walls. Two desks, two beds. A chair propped under the door nob enforced privacy. The window was flung open, orange and pink-tinted sunset light streaming in. Drapes fluttered in a breeze that cooled my skin. Everywhere. I frowned. I wore...

My heart beat rapidly. Well, a man's cravat was clothing, wasn't it?

I smelled lavender and heard outraged mumbling at the same time.

My eyes dropped to the man tied hand-and-foot to the small bed. A piece of my clothing was stuffed in his mouth. He thrashed his head side to side, but stopped and stared up at me having caught my attention. He'd put me in my place this afternoon, so I'd done this? Certain parts of a man's anatomy implied that he wasn't all that frightened.

Average, I thought. "Perfect" my mind added. I squatted rapidly when I realized what he could view, did view.

I'd done this.

Maybe I'd said it aloud. He nodded, mumbled. I pulled the silk out of his mouth so he could demand, "Untie me! Now!"

I almost jumped at his command. Then, "Why?" bubbled up. Behind the mask, I'd been hidden. Remembered courage made me rub the back of my palm on his cheek.

Bristly. I shivered. "Really?" I asked.

"No."

Of course, /no./ Active in student government. President of an athletic club. Ranked high in his class, he tutored others. He was responsible. Driven. Attractive in that, also, but always taking the reins. Had to be tiresome. Being led sometimes wasn't bad, was it?

"You... suggested this?" I asked, leaning over his face, feeling his warm breath.

Expression suddenly perplexed, he admitted, "Yeah."

His head reached up as I kissed him and it was all the consent I needed.

Later, he held me. I'd untied him for practical reasons. Spooned, I felt warm, syrupy, still smelling our perspiration. In the light of the dusk, autumn crisp air cooling my skin, I looked at Avarice laying there, colored blue and highlighted in orange by the sky. The kanji glowed blue. I thanked my mother mentally.

I'd wear the mask again. Yes. Definitely. I could think of plenty of things that required courage and would provide me solace, as likely Mother had, too.

Maybe greedy was alright?

[2 1/2 hrs writing time. Author retains copyright.]

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