Prologue: Rain Check

He'd offered her a seat on the sofa across him, but the weight of her announcement was too distracting to mind it. She was standing in limbo between the armrest and the dark little coffee table when she told him. To the far side, a quaint fire eavesdropped over the hearth.

Her visit had an amicable front. The trip to Alexandria was long overdue, or so he told her in his letters, and she was welcomed into the castle with open arms. His friends were there, people she tentatively acknowledged as allies, and together they celebrated what her "big brother" called a "reunion." There was an extravagant amount of food, drink, games and boisterous talk, things that Gaian people insisted were fun. She stood back and observed their revelry with ambivalence, torn between curiosity and distaste (what was the point?), until Zidane prodded her into the party's circle and forced her embarrassment over a round of cards.

Mikoto finally made a friend of the dragon knight, the lady called Freya, who stood up and scolded the older Genome for being too overbearing. Zidane apologized between bouts of dismissive laughter, making light of his sister's awkward position.

At length, he asked why she didn't bring the children with her, and that was when Mikoto remembered the business part of her visit. She knew the news would be too heavy for his light heart, so she requested a private chamber, and he led her to a study on the lower levels that was "perfect for a little chat." It was adequate, she supposed, the bookshelves and plush furniture arranged warmly on the cold stone between the fireplace and small, high window. She didn't plan on getting comfortable, though.

If Mikoto had a knack for anything, it was acting as the neutral party--just the messenger. She told him with a straight face and a clear, steady voice, free of demands or bias. He asked few questions, though stages of confusion and alarm flitted across his features and twisted his tail in knots as he listened and nodded. He had wanted to know, and she wouldn't hide the truth. It was not her purpose.

"So that's..." he started to say, painstakingly, once she ran out of things to explain. "That's it?"

She couldn't say no. He wrung his hands and stared at the rug, eyes quivering behind limp strands of hair--hair that had already started draining of its vibrant yellow tone. That was why he'd written her, in the beginning--he wanted to know why he was turning grey, like his brother, the angel of death. So she came to tell him that death would be his angel.

Her silence answered him. He nodded again, deflating in the chair with an air of something that never suited him: defeat. "That's it."

She didn't stop his conclusions, nor his rising and plodding past her on leaden feet. He was halfway out the door when she caught the nerve to ask, "Where are you going?"

Not even his tail rustled to answer. "To my room. I think I need to lie down."

"Are you not going back to join your friends?" She didn't know why she bothered.

"No, I..." He hesitated and scrubbed his face, stifling a sigh. She caught his weary glance. He'd aged twenty years in five minutes. "No, I'll take a rain check on that. Just tell them I got tired and went to bed, okay?"

"Okay..." Mikoto said carefully, respectfully distant, and Zidane left her alone with what was to come.

It did not occur to her until later that the standard Gaian response was, "Good night."

A/N: Uh-oh, not this story again. It's like re-run season up in here. Those who read "Love is Not Enough" know how it ends, but I hope to bring a bunch of new flavors to the table here, as well as fill in a lot of blanks left over from last time. Expect more gallows humor and good ol' fashioned angst.

(plz don't kill me)