So this was written half out of my own desire to do a unique-ish take on the Shitennou post-Stars and half as a result of my varied frustrations with fandom, so I hope this prompt serves as a breath of semi-fresh air. It's an amalgamation of a lot of different ideas and concepts, the world being a mostly cohesive pastiche of elements from mainly the manga and anime (maybe mainly the manga since this story is about 70% based in it?), though some inspiration is drawn from other SM-related media.

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It's been a year since Chaos's defeat, and for Tsukino Usagi and company, peace is at an all-time high. Except for the part where the Shittenou are back. That? Well, that's where things start to get a little complicated and decidedly less peaceful.

The thing about past lives is that they either make or break your present existence. Or, in the cases of Jadeite, Nephrite, Zoisite, and Kunzite, maybe they don't matter at all, especially when it comes to getting along. The Shitennou and the days following their resurrection. A tale of friendship, love, discovery, and the understated fact that life after death isn't easy, but you don't have to go about it alone. Theoretically, anyway.

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1. No Fate But What We Make (or) Destiny's a Bitch

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"But—but you can't leave!"

Jadeite grit his teeth, not in the mood to argue with Zoisite. He didn't know what was worse; the boy's insistence that he stay or his incessant pacing. The constant movement was grating, but tempting as it was, snapping at Zoisite wouldn't actually help things, so he bit down on his tongue to refrain from doing so.

"You're making a mistake," Zoisite was saying for the umpteenth time, and Jadeite decided that tuning him out wholesale was the best course of action.

His suitcase was full save for a few things he'd yet to pack, not that he had much to his name—just clothes, a few pair of shoes, his phone, and a jewelry box Nephrite maybe unironically gave to him he hadn't thrown out because unlike Nephrite himself, it was useful.

Jadeite wasn't a hoarder, but feeling a little less broke wouldn't hurt. He figured he'd have time to fix that later. For now, he needed to get out of this cesspool. The sooner the better.

He finished packing within a few short minutes and, after double-checking his belongings, stood to his feet, pulling his suitcase up by the handle. He gave the room a cursory scan.

He wouldn't miss it. Aside from the hair and fabric that tended to be everywhere, sharing a room with Zoisite hadn't been the worst thing in the world, but living under the same roof as Kunzite might have been close to it. He was lucky Beryl was a bitch and Jadeite had far less safe for work things to say about her.

Jadeite rolled his eyes when his gaze landed on the door, where a sullen Zoisite was shamelessly blocking his path, and he just. Didn't have the time.

"Zoisite"—he enunciated his name carefully—"what are you doing?"

The younger boy crossed his arms, uncrossed them, and cleared his throat. "I'm appealing to you."

"Nothing you say or do will change my mind. I told you that."

"This is wrong," Zoisite said. "You don't really want to leave, do you?"

"I do." Zoisite's face fell, and Jadeite momentarily regretted not being as black-hearted as Nephrite. Damn Zoisite and his sentimentality.

"Look. You can visit whenever you want. I don't care." Though how often Jadeite would be present for those visits was anyone's guess. "But I can't stay here."

Zoisite wrinkled his nose, but then he raised an eyebrow. "Whenever I want?"

"Whenever you want."

Zoisite still looked unconvinced, but he sighed and moved away from the door. "I still think this is a mistake, but I won't stop you from making whatever bad decisions you want to."

"That's reassuring," Jadeite muttered before opening the door and exiting the room. As he descended the stairs, Zoisite trailing behind him, anticipation built in his stomach. Once he left here, he'd hopefully be free of expectations and get to live his newfound life the way he wanted to live it.

The excitement lasted all of three seconds. No sooner did he reach the bottom of the staircase did he spot the figure perched on the left arm of the couch. Bother.

Jadeite tightened his grip around his suitcase handle and exhaled, marching determinedly to the front door. He was almost there, his hand brushing against the doorknob when a mocking voice called out to him.

"Leaving so soon, Jadeite? Why, this would kill Kunzite."

Jadeite bit his tongue. So much for ignoring the bastard. They'd barely been back six months, yet Nephrite had already proved himself to be human garbage. Jadeite knew better than to dignify him with a response, but he couldn't help it.

"Frankly," he said as he turned to face the man, "I don't care what he thinks."

Nephrite shrugged, inspecting his freshly manicured nails as he said, "Maybe, but it's a coward's move to leave when you know he's not here. Not that you were ever particularly brave. No wonder Beryl stopped relying on you; always sending clay dolls to do your dirty work."

Jadeite wondered how many bludgeons to the head it would take to kill Nephrite. Too many, he thought, even if he'd liked to test the theory. What remained of the soul of his past self told him he didn't hate Nephrite as much as he thought if at all, but Jadeite wasn't inclined to listen to a man who'd thought it was a good idea to betray and subsequently try to murder the lover of his prince.

"Don't you have somewhere to be?" Jadeite asked. "Like a thrift store or Dante's Inferno?"

Nephrite chuckled and looked up at Jadeite with a smirk. "Are we in Hell now? You're here, of course, but it doesn't make much sense for Zoisite to be here too..."

"If you don't have anything useful to say, goodbye," Jadeite said, veering for the door, but then Nephrite spoke again.

"This is so typical of you." He flicked his overly-conditioned hair to the side. "Running away from here just like you're running away from the fact that the only reason you were reborn on this planet was to serve a man you—"

"One. More. Word," Jadeite hissed. "One more word, you insufferable peacock, and I'll—"

"Okay!" Zoisite interjected, rushing between them. "Don't you guys think that's enough? You're comrades. Brothers. You shouldn't fight each other."

"He's not my brother. Not in this life," Jadeite snapped, and he didn't miss the way Zoisite flinched or the small stab of guilt in his stomach, but he refused to take back his words. Not when he felt them in his bones.

"Jadeite..." Zoisite trailed off, biting his lip. Nephrite shook his head.

"It's okay," he told the younger boy. "You don't have to defend me. You focus on getting those split ends under control, alright, doll?"

Zoisite stared, fingering the ends of his long ponytail with a frazzled expression.

While Zoisite worked out that he'd been insulted, Nephrite swerved his attention back to Jadeite. "Leave. What you do isn't any of my concern, even if it doesn't make any sense. Oh, and, you need to calm down. This place is starting to feel like the arctic pole."

Jadeite blinked, and it was then that he realized the temperature in the room had ebbed several degrees, frost manifesting on his palms. He scowled, willing it away until the ice on his skin began to melt and the room was at a normal enough temperature.

"Strange, how naturally that power comes to you," Nephrite remarked thoughtfully. "At least I'll always have this."

He waved a lazy hand in the air, red tendrils of energy emanating from his fingertips. Zoisite looked on in wonder, but Jadeite thought he should consider himself lucky he couldn't produce so much as a spark. He didn't have to worry about random shit exploding whenever he felt a touch off-kilter.

"Whatever," Jadeite muttered, not caring whether Nephrite replied or not. He needed to get out.

"Wait!" Zoisite exclaimed just as he was twisting the doorknob, and not again. Fate was a bitch, and Jadeite was clearly on her shit-list.

"Yes, Zoisite?" he asked through gritted teeth.

"I just wanted to say that I'll... I." A dejected sigh. "Nothing. Have a safe trip."

He could tell Zoisite wanted to say more, and there it was again; that stab of guilt. He shook his head, calling a quick, "I will," over his shoulder before throwing open the door and escaping the apartment, filing into the first open elevator he saw.

There was no reason to feel bad. He shouldn't feel bad. Besides, he doubted whatever Zoisite had to say to him was important. It couldn't have been. It wasn't. Jadeite pushed these thoughts to the back of his mind as the elevator dinged and the doors slid open. He stepped out into the hall and all but rushed through the exit, resenting that his luggage was slowing him down by at least a millisecond.

He couldn't help the grin that overtook his face once he was outside on the sidewalk. He was free of one chain, finally. He was—

Jadeite yelped as he was crashed into from behind, and he whirled around to see a man in an expensive suit scowling at him.

"Watch where you're going," he barked as if he wasn't the cause of the collision before shuffling past Jadeite and stalking away.

Jadeite rubbed his temples. People. They were easily the worst part about coming back to life. And he was the one expected to be patient with them.

Jadeite pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked the address Mamoru had texted to him last night. It was roughly ten minutes away by train, but he hated how compact public transportation was, so he was left with no choice but to walk. He damned his resolve to keep the use of his powers to a minimum. All of this would be so much easier with a flick of his wrist.

Tokyo was a crowded, bustling place with crowded, bustling streets, and not for the first time, Jadeite wondered why Queen Serenity couldn't have had them reincarnated somewhere more convenient like, say, Vatican City, but he nevertheless jostled through the throng of people until he reached the tall glass complex he recognized as Mamoru's apartment building.

Jadeite cocked his head to the side as he observed the high-rise. It was next to extravagant in comparison to the three-bedroom unit he was forced to call home not even an hour ago.

Though you'd think the trust-fund baby could afford better than a shitty apartment a step-up from a hovel. Oh, right. Financial independence. Or whatever sanctimonious bullshit Kunzite was peddling now. It was never-ending.

He sighed before heading inside, not missing the skeptical way the doorman eyed his jeans and hoodie. Of all the terms he'd come to associate with human beings the last few months, "elitist prick" was a phrase that ranked high on that list.

The lobby was as shiny as Jadeite remembered, and the cougar of a receptionist was still there, but no rest for the wicked, he supposed. He pretended not to notice her winking as he passed her desk and took an elevator up to Mamoru's floor—thirteen. Jadeite wasn't superstitious, but weeks of living with Nephrite had rubbed off enough for him to rethink not bringing along a canister of salt.

When he finally reached Mamoru's floor and stood in front of his apartment door, he hesitated. It was now or never. He was the one who'd asked for this in the first place. He'd come too far to back out. But.

He squared his shoulders, raising a hand to knock when the door flung open to reveal the face of one Chiba Mamoru. Jadeite pursed his lips, suspecting the man knew he was there before he'd even entered the building.

"Jadeite," he greeted warmly, an excitement in his eyes that betrayed his calm disposition and made Jadeite want nothing more than to flee because maybe this was a mistake. "It's so good to see you."

He nodded, ignoring the part of him—the lingering pieces of his past self's bond with Endymion—that was happy to see him too.

Mamoru eyed him curiously. "I wasn't expecting you until later. It's not even noon."

"I didn't have a lot to pack, so I figured I would just come over already."

What he didn't tell Mamoru was that Saturday was the only day he knew Kunzite would be gone most of it, but he hadn't taken any chances and left as early as he could. Nephrite called it cowardice. Jadeite called it preventive measures.

"I see." Mamoru held open the door, gesturing for Jadeite to come in.

Jadeite glanced toward the elevators out of the corner of his eye. There was still time to back out, and yet...

He followed Mamoru into the apartment, and it was clean and pristine as ever. Roomy and decorated in a way that made it obvious the owner was wealthy, but not in an offensive way, like every time he saw Nephrite. It was beautiful, but beautiful things often concealed ugly realities, so he'd learned not to be too fazed.

They stepped further into the apartment, and Jadeite was surprised to see a petite girl with long blonde hair half up in buns crouched over a chabudai table scribbling furiously at a sheet of paper. Upon hearing them enter the room, she looked up and grinned. "Jadeite-kun! It's so wonderful to see you again. Mamo-chan said you were moving in today, but I expected you later. How are you?"

"I'm fine," he said shortly, put off by her kindness. He didn't understand why she insisted on being nice when in the not-so-distant present, a version of him tried to kill her and her friends several times over.

Tsukino beamed. "That's good to hear. I'm excited for you to see your room. I just know you'll love it and—"

"Usako," Mamoru said. "Focus."

She scoffed. "Fine, but you owe me big time for this."

He chuckled, and it was endearing and sugary and so genuine Jadeite could feel his teeth tighten. Mamoru turned to him.

"She failed her last math test, so we're aiming to get her grade up for the makeup exam."

Tsukino muttered darkly under her breath, and Jadeite thought that for a girl who'd saved the world time and time again, it seemed ridiculous that math was her last straw. Mamoru chuckled again before leading Jadeite down the hallway. The hall was lined with three doors, with two on one wall. Jadeite assumed those were his and Mamoru's rooms.

They arrived at the door at the end of the hall, and Mamoru smiled at him before turning the knob and pushing it open. Jadeite followed him in, his eyes widening as he crossed the threshold.

The walls were an icy blue color, complemented by the various blues and pure white of the minimal furniture and accessories. In a corner of the room was an alcove at the slightly open window, white curtains drawn open to reveal a breathtaking view of the city. It felt familiar. Like something he chose for himself.

"It's perfect," he said before he could stop himself, and behind him, Mamoru sighed in relief.

"I'm glad you like it. Since it used to be an entertainment room, the walls are soundproof, but I feel like that's something you'll appreciate. Usagi thought red might be your color, but something about that didn't feel right to me. I'm glad I didn't let her convince me otherwise."

Two things occurred to Jadeite: one, Tsukino thought red would suit him (red?), and two, Mamoru seemed to know him better than he'd like. He ignored them both.

"Thank you," Jadeite said, facing Mamoru but careful to avoid his welcoming gaze. "For letting me stay here, I mean."

Mamoru smiled; again, Jadeite contemplated fleeing. "It was nothing. I'm just happy you have somewhere to stay while you and Kunzite sort everything out."

As if, Jadeite thought, but he gave Mamoru the most sincere smile he could manage. "Yeah."

Mamoru looked like he wanted to say more and lingered in the doorway with an unsure, hesitant expression, but then he nodded. "Well, I'll leave you to it."

He gave another one of those smiles—Jadeite decided he hated them—and strode back down the hall. Tsukino jumped up and immediately barraged him with questions, but Jadeite closed the door before he could really hear what they were saying.

He pressed his back against the wood and sank onto the carpet, twisting the gemstone ring on his left-hand pointer finger.

What was he even doing? Leaving one hellhole to move into the next? That wasn't to say Mamoru wasn't the better option, but Nephrite hadn't been wrong when he'd said what he was doing didn't make any sense.

It didn't make sense to live with the man who served as the biggest reminder of the reason as to why he was born again, but at least here, with Mamoru, there were no demands. No expectations.

He knew that in between Nephrite existing and Zoisite's inability to not leave hair strewn everywhere, he would have left eventually, but Kunzite had lived to speed along that process.

Kunzite, who couldn't go a day without casting him looks of simultaneous disapproval and disappointment and, when he felt especially bold, reminding him of his "duties." Kunzite was just as he remembered him being in his two previous lives; strict, controlling, and cold, and Jadeite didn't care for any of it.

It was for that reason that a little over a month ago, he'd called Mamoru and asked if he could temporarily stay in the extra room at his apartment. He hadn't offered details, but Mamoru, for whatever reason, had agreed. Obviously, Kunzite gave him his side of the story at some point, but he wasn't sure this was something that could be sorted out, not in the way Mamoru thought.

It took three tedious weeks for Mamoru to prepare a room for him, but it was yesterday morning when he'd called and informed Jadeite it was ready. Jadeite would have dropped everything and gone right then and there, but for Zoisite's pouting sake, he'd stayed the night.

He didn't understand Kunzite's insistence that he follow in the footsteps of a trigger-happy stranger who lived thousands of years ago. Mamoru had made it clear that they were free to do whatever they pleased, but Jadeite suspected even that was for show. It was obvious the man was eager to spend more time with him—with them—but was walking on eggshells to make them comfortable.

He was truly grateful for Mamoru's hospitality, but he couldn't get too comfortable if he hoped to find his own place anytime soon and gain something like autonomy.

But what am I doing now? Reminiscing over the bastards in my life and being the reincarnation of the biggest one of all?

"Knight of Patience and Harmony, huh?" He grimaced. "Because genocide was the patient, harmonious thing to do."

Jadeite ran a hand through his hair before pulling his hoodie tighter around him. He was cold, and it was a pain, but at least windows weren't shattering again. Jadeite reached into his pocket for his phone—apparently 5G. Three years he'd been gone. Three years and technology, like the rest of the world, had already moved on without a care that he was lagging—and pulling up the page he'd been eyeing for a few days.

It was an ad for a weekday fitness program at a local gym, and they were looking for assistant instructors. Jadeite didn't like the idea of being cooped up in a cagey room full of sweaty people with body dysmorphia, but if he wanted to move within the next year, it was a start. It was also the highest-paying job he could find that didn't require university credentials.

He hadn't applied yet, but the resume he'd gotten Meiou to craft behind Kunzite's back should work. He'd tested its sufficiency and landed an interview for an opening at a Uniqlo store, so getting this job shouldn't be difficult.

A lukewarm breeze wafted in through the open window, warming the air in the room and Jadeite. He stood up and opened the window wider.

He relished in the feel of the sun against his face. Maybe it was ironic he liked the heat considering a former version of himself was burnt at stake, but that was the point, wasn't it?

He wasn't that person anymore. He wasn't that Jadeite.

And he wouldn't be. Kunzite might think he had a destiny, but the Silver Millennium and the Dark Kingdom were dead and gone, and they weren't coming back, and still, he was alive, and he planned to make the most of it without the sins of his previous lives binding him. He refused to be bound.

Another warm, gentle breeze drifted in. It ruffled Jadeite's hair and flushed his cheeks, warming him. Listening to the universe was more Nephrite's thing, but he liked to think that maybe—maybe—it was a sign from the heavens that he'd made the right choice after all.

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Okay, so the Sailor Moon timeline is super confounding, but let's assume Usagi was Sailor Moon for about two-ish years, and since this story is roughly a year post-Stars, she and the Inner Senshi are 18 or going on 18, Haruka and Michiru are 19, and Setsuna and Hotaru are - fuck it because here's where it gets even more confusing - 23 and 14 respectively. As for the guys, Mamoru is 20, and the Shitennou are the youngest estimated ages given to them in the (admittedly faulty, not biblically canon) Materials Collection plus one year - so 19 for Jadeite, 20 for Nephrite, 17 for Zoisite, and then we have Kunzite at a whooping, at least compared to his fellow Shitennou, 26.

Anywho, I'm really posting this to test the waters and see if people are interested, so feedback is much appreciated! Leave a review and stay safe out in these streets.