PROLOGUE
I based this story partially off of the concept of an rpg I was on and helped with the plot for so it's all good. (To be fair this idea was also inspired by one of the Sera Myu musicals -- also this will be said once and only once: I don't own Sailor Moon, if I did this would very obviously be canon and not fanfiction).
Jade eyes flicked open in the darkness. Where was he? The thought came unbidden to his mind. He could feel something cold and solid beneath his body: a floor. The last thing he could remember was golden hair and the burning sensation of his skin being torn apart by razors, little crescent moon razors. Oh yes, he couldn't forget that now, could he? Just as he couldn't forget the name of the person who had done it: Sailor Venus. His blood boiled at the mere thought of her. She would have to wait though. He had other things to worry about.
The first of which being how he was here at all. He had died, there was no way around that little fact. That blond haired baka had come all the way to Japan from England to mock him one final time by finishing him off. How then was he still alive? At least he assumed he was alive. It was entirely possible that he was in the after life: eternity in darkness with a stiff back on a cold floor. Charming. He caught sight of a light wavering just on the edges of his vision and turned his head away from the unpleasant sensation it caused to his eyes. Someone was calling his name. He could hear it penetrating his thoughts like the poison he recognized it to be. No other voice could instill such an annoyance, such a silent rage through him. "Zoisite, stand up and greet your master," the voice of the woman he would have once obeyed without a second thought -- not that he would have had much of a choice in the matter -- commanded. No sooner had he regained consciousness, than he had realized whose orders it had been that had led him to his untimely death. The woman who had poisoned the only friends he'd had and his own mind.
His gaze shifted to her, a retort as to just what he thought about this 'master' fresh on his tongue, when he saw who stood beside her. He scrambled to his feet only to incline his body from the waist up, copper blond locks obscuring a face that registered shock. The tousled black locks, the royal blue eyes, and that unmistakable noble air could only describe one person. "E-endymion-sama," he managed, the words barely a whisper. A rush of memories accompanied his use of the name; memories he had not known he'd possessed.
His first day at the Terran Palace to begin his training as a shitennou; just after his 14th birthday. His introduction to the prince he would be protecting and the three men he would consider his brothers . A flash of silver and black as he sat back watching Kunzite and Endymion sparring with swords alongside Nephrite and Jadeite. Endymion laughing as he murmured that he wouldn't be able to go to the ball because he'd never learned to dance, and then graciously agreeing to teach him. The memories grew darker after that. Arguments with the prince about that damned Lunarian princess. An unexpected meeting with a red haired witch and then nothing until the image of a sword being plunged into the dark haired man's back by the same witch.
He clutched at his head, his mind reeling from the sudden overload of memories. He felt a hand on his shoulder then; a familiar pressure of comfort that he knew he didn't deserve. "Gomen naisai, Endymion-sama," he began. "I, we--" The prince cut him off with a finger placed to his own lips. "It's all right Zoisite," he assured him with a smile. "That's all in the past now. I have a lot to atone for as well. Chaos and Beryl have given me the chance to make amends." The smile that followed his comment sent shivers down the young man's spine.