Discalimer: Sailor Moon characters belong to Naoko Takeuchi. Everything else belongs to me. Please do not steal!

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2 - Saitou Kun

Jogging down the path, he focused on his breathing and pace, stubbornly keeping anything and everything else out of his head.

He purposely left everything behind, on the bricked path of the part; the job interview at a prestigious law firm in less than two hours, the finals next week and the graduation ceremony, and the speech he needed to review before that. The young man in black armor sneaking out from under his watch…

He shook his head, forcing the thought off his mind. He didn't have time for strange dreams about a prince in some golden palace and three other men under his command trying to protect said prince.

No, not three, he corrected himself. One was a girl.

As soon as the thought crossed his mind he growled. A deep, set frown coming to his handsome features as he sped up just a little bit, focusing on his jogging once more.

So what if there had once been a prince somewhere out there under his watch? So what if the four of them, the other two men, the girl and himself had been in charge of looking after that prince? So what if there had been some kind of war and some sort of witches in miniskirts -miniskirts, for Christ's sake!- taking a stand against evil forces?

Those were just dreams. Extremely weird, utterly confusing, downright ridiculous dreams. Worthy of either a horror movie, with the blood, the hissing whispers, the torture, the pain -so, so much pain…-, or an erotic tale, with a golden beauty, a goddess, riding him in all her naked glory, long blonde hair all around her marvelous body and the red bow that had once been in her hair now covering cornflower colored eyes as he played and tasted her…

Even the thought of her in the orange miniskirt and white leotard was enough to arouse him. Her teasing, brilliant smile and shinning eyes made his heart ache, and it all drove him insane.

He shook his head, pushing the dream-memory away.

He had a tall, strong frame, narrow hips, hard abdomen and broad shoulders. The uncommon silver tint of his hair was natural, and he had piercing ice blue eyes; he knew the effect he had in women, and he had never had any kind of trouble in that area. He didn't need to chaste after the ghost of a dreamed goddess who couldn't possibly be real, for no woman could ever look like that in real life; there were plenty of fish in the sea.

And, usually, it was them the ones doing the chasing. He simply obliged every now and then. For a night or two. And only with those he thought mature enough to understand, no strings attached wasn't code for anything; it meant exactly that.

He never made any promises, and he wasn't planning on sharing his life with anyone anytime soon. He had plans he had worked hard to achieve his whole life, and he refused to let it all go to waste because his subconscious had finally decided to give in.

He didn't need this. He didn't need the ghost of the goddess, he didn't need to spend any amount of time wondering -worrying- about witches and wars and a probably pompous prince who had most likely got himself in skirts trouble.

He didn't have time for any of it. And yet…

He was a man of control, and he was rather proud of that. During day time, the goddess rarely ever invaded his thoughts; it was the prince who was constantly there, hidden on some corner of his mind. And he couldn't even begin to comprehend why just the thought of that boy, for he couldn't be older than eighteen, was enough to make him worried.

He feared for the boy, and he couldn't understand why.

Why was he so important? Who was he?

Endymion. His name is Endymion.

The voice, completely out of nowhere, just came to his mind with such clarity and such certainty, it shook him entirely, forcing him to a stop.

Who said that?

It wasn't the whispering shadows. He knew that, for the voice had sounded different. There was no hissing hatred pouring out, no cold shiver running down his spine, no horror wanting to crawl its way into his heart. It almost sounded…

It sounded like himself…

The memory of bright, warm sapphires assaulted him; sorrow and shame like he had never felt before filled his every pore.

He had betrayed him.

How, when. Why…

He didn't know. He wasn't sure. Just like he wasn't sure of how he knew the prince's name, or why was he so sure it was his job to protect him, to keep him alive. He just knew, with a sudden clarity that surprised him, he had betrayed the prince.

He had failed.

His watch's alarm went off, startling him. Taking a deep breath which came out in the form of a low growl, he put his head back in order and turned around, making his way back to his apartment.

He couldn't afford to lose it right now; he needed to focus. Strange dreams and tales of war and betrayal and loss could wait.

He needed to get ready for his interview. That's what he needed to do.