A/N: Just a short drabble to make myself feel less guilty about not working on "Fire Rekindled"...Reviews are hugely loved and appreciated.
Zoisite remembered the Silver Millennium. That is to say, he remembered as much as he was able. He remembered clearly (or perhaps fuzzily, he would admit) the first time he met Kunzite, he remembered setting Nephrite's hair on fire, he remembered the one time he succeeded in convincing Jadeite to cross-dress. He remembered Serenity, he remembered his prince, and he remembered how and why he betrayed them to join Beryl. Important details escaped him though. He was only human, and no matter how extraordinary or clever he was, his mind couldn't hold with perfect clarity memories from nearly a millennium ago.
He returned home later than Kunzite one night, tired from overseeing the training of a group of dimwitted youma that, as far as he was concerned, had wasted his entire day. He had more worthwhile things he could have done. He could have taken Jadeite's spot as the commander of operations in Japan. He was more worthy, and he was sure that Jadeite would make a fool of himself, one way or another.
But Queen Beryl had assigned Jadeite to Japan, and Zoisite to the squad of relegated youma. The day had taken his bitter resentment at his assignment, crumpled it into a ball and squashed it. He felt like he was willing to forego even a quick dinner and shower if it meant he could go to bed sooner.
"I'm home," Zoisite called tiredly when he teleported into their home, but no one answered. The unexpected smell of food lured him into the dining room, and he found Kunzite sitting at their small round table, chin propped on a fist and gray eyes looking straight at him as though he had known Zoisite would come walking through the door at that very moment. Zoisite's heart skipped a little when he saw that dinner was waiting on the table, and that Kunzite's plate was still untouched.
Of course he grinned like a fool, and his spirits revived, but he held himself back and didn't wrap his arms around his partner like he longed to do. "Kunzite-sama, I'm home," he said simply, and sat down to dinner.
Kunzite merely nodded and picked up his utensils. "You're late."
"I'm sorry. The youma I had to work with today…You know how they are." He shrugged, not wanting to dwell on that particular group of Metallia-forsaken losers. "You cooked," he pointed out instead, appreciation dancing on his lips and lighting his eyes as he looked from Kunzite to their steak dinner. When was the last time they had had a quiet, leisurely meal together? The meals at the common dining hall and wayside food shops had become far too familiar as of late.
"I did," Kunzite affirmed, and cut into his slab of steak. "I got back early."
They wasted no further words on pleasantries, for those had been exchanged a thousand times in the past already. Still, as they began eating, Zoisite wondered how Kunzite's day had been. He wanted to know if Jadeite's departure for his first mission in Japan that day had made the other king think of times long ago when they had belonged to the Earth, and not the Dark Kingdom.
"Do you think Jadeite will succeed?" Zoisite asked.
Kunzite read and edge of bitterness in Zoisite's tone, and understood it well, but he replied impassively, "There's no reason he shouldn't, in a task as simple as this."
"I guess so…" Zoisite grumbled, unable to dispute his lover's logic.
"It's not a job worth envying, however glamorous it may sound," Kunzite advised.
'Maybe,' Zoisite thought, but what did Kunzite care for glamorous titles and assignments? Being the highest king of the Shitennou gave him glamour enough.
Knowing he could ill-disguise his feelings and moods from Kunzite, Zoisite chewed and swallowed a mouthful of steak with some irritation and dropped the subject. Instead, he brought up the other thoughts Jadeite's mission had stirred. "Kunzaito-sama…Do you remember our prince?"
The other king frowned, but he answered after a moment, "Yes. What about him?"
Zoisite had half-expected Kunzite to deny any memory of the prince. They didn't often discuss their long-ago past in the Silver Millennium, as though by not talking about it, they could erase it from their memories. But Zoisite found himself wanting to remember today, and Kunzite's affirmative response had made him wonder if perhaps he was the only one who had forgotten.
Reflecting on it now, it wouldn't be at all surprising if Kunzite somehow managed to keep all his memories in crystalline condition, for that was how he often was when repeating the words or wishes of Queen Beryl or Zoisite himself. There were times when the younger king found himself questioning his god-like senior's humanity.
Zoisite said, "I was just thinking today…I can't remember even his name, never mind his face." We used to love him like a brother, and it bothers me, it annoys the hell out of me, that I can't put a name or a face to his memory. I think…I need to remember. He looked hopefully at his partner, unwilling to admit even to himself that he hoped Kunzite, too, had forgotten.
"Endymion," Kunzite answered without hesitation. He forked a squishy, sickly green vegetable and popped it into his mouth.
"Oh…" Zoisite said, his face warming in embarrassment. He was surprised, and a little jealous, that the other could respond so quickly. "Endymion, huh." He rolled the name around in his mind a few times. It sounded familiar, he supposed. And it proved that Kunzite remembered perfectly. A chilling black hole of envy opened up in Zoisite's mind, and his only salvation from it was to recover his memories of the prince, of the past that Kunzite could recall so easily. He asked Kunzite with a tremor in his voice, "And what did our prince look like?"
Kunzite didn't respond immediately, and Zoisite was enormously irked. At last, however, the first king responded haltingly: "He was…he had…short hair."
And after another few moments in which his brow furrowed deeply, he shrugged. "Not very memorable," he concluded, and smirked ever so lightly.
The black hole abruptly vanished, and relief spread though Zoisite like warm sunshine. The dark-golden-haired king laughed. "Of course not," he agreed, all at once at ease, and the light in his eyes told Kunzite that he was glad that he wasn't the only one who couldn't remember.
"Why ask?" Kunzite watched Zoisite curiously.
"It doesn't matter," Zoisite replied, and finishing his dinner with relish, turned his attention to what did matter. "Have you showered yet, Kunzaito-sama?"