On the way there, she wonders, almost idly, what her heart's desire is.

.......she already knows what her heart's desire is.

(She'd told Sano that she wasn't a romantic. And that's true. She isn't. But-- she wanted to be, she tried to be, before she decided she was broken and there was no use dwelling on it since it wasn't going to change.

Simone knows what she wants. She wants to love someone, not just like them, really truly love them, and she wants to be the kind of person who gets to be loved.)

It's not any sort of pressure or control. Just... the knowledge that the mask is there, in her bag, and she could have her heart's desire, even for a little bit. And if she gave it away she could never have it again.

There's no use dwelling on it, she had told herself years ago. It can't be changed. Focus on the things you can actually do something about.

But now it can be changed. She could just-- put the mask on--

She stops. She presses her hands to her face. She keeps walking again, faster this time.

It wouldn't be real, she says to herself, fiercely. But it would be. The mask doesn't trap you that way, Sano had said, it really does give you what you want. The cost is everything else.

What would Simone give up to be the sort of person who could love?

Walking faster still, now. I would very much prefer you not be in danger, Mr. Sano had said, and he had smiled at her, and when she smiled back it had been real. You make quite sensible decisions yourself.

She's hyperventilating when she makes it to the door of his office, purse still closed, box untouched.

But she makes it there.

"Do you have the mask, Miss Laurent?"

"Yes." She pulls it out of her bag with shaking hands and puts it on the desk. Please please please show me I was right to trust you, she doesn't say.

He visibly shudders. "Awful thing."

"Yes. It is." Deep, shuddery breath. "He hadn't put it on. I told him Parker had been lying to him-- I read Chinese, Lucas doesn't, I claimed the papers said it had been purchased in Hong Kong and he couldn't contradict me-- everyone's okay."

Sad smile. "It is... not often that that's true at the end of one of my misadventures. I will send it with a trained courier to a collector who specializes in keeping this sort of... artifact... secure."

She nods again. "Okay. Okay, that's... good."

Pause.

"Mr. Sano? You can call me Simone. If you want."

"You may call me Ichiro. I hope I'll see you again while I'm in New York?"

(It's done, everyone's okay-- she's still a little shaky.)

"I'm singing at the Catfish Orpheus on Friday, if you're free."

"That would be wonderful."

He bows and very politely kisses the back of her hand.

Her face doesn't heat up. She's still herself. But when she smiles, it's the real one again. "Then I'll see you then."

The next day, at the audition, Ana doesn't look out at the crowd. Instead, she closes her eyes, and she sings to an audience of only herself. Her voice is the most beautiful that Simone has ever heard it.

She is hired to travel Europe. She is acclaimed. She still sings with her eyes closed. But when you're acclaimed, singing with your eyes closed is a quirk, and refusing to go to parties means you're a recluse who only concentrates on her art.

Lucas writes for a while, but love is different to maintain by intercontinental letter. He meets someone at a party his father hosts, and he won't shut up to Simone about how wonderful she is. A year later they are married, and a year after that they have a child, and you can't support a family as a mediocre artist. He still comes to see Simone perform sometimes. He seems happy enough.

Mr. Parker continues to have disturbing interruptions at his parties.

Mr. Sano visits New York City regularly, selling antiques both ordinary and special. When he visits, he attends Simone's performances, sends her flowers, and takes her out to the best restaurants and the most exclusive speakeasies. (He doesn't drink.) They become lovers, after a while. He seems to care for her.

Simone learns Japanese. She doesn't marry. She visits Japan with Ichiro, a few times; she doesn't stay. It's not a bad life, performing and living with friends.

Twenty years later, she gets a telegram that says Goodbye, I love you two days before the attack on Pearl Harbor.

After the war begins, she hears rumors of monsters in the Japanese army, giants who can bend tank guns with their hands and who bounce bullets from their chests. It's probably tall tales told by soldiers, she thinks.

Besides, even if it were real, it has absolutely nothing at all to do with her.