Most took the form they were used to, their subconscious views of themselves in their dreams. If they hated themselves, they were at their worst, tormented even in the realm of dreams turned nightmarish by their own suffering. If they were happy, and loved themselves, their dream bodies reflected it.
His fellow guardian, for all that he didn't much care about mortal lives, was the spitting image of one, wearing the mortal face he currently did even in the realm of dreams. If Helios hadn't been able to sense the kindred soul within him, he would have never known they were of the same origin. Whether this was on purpose or accidental, he didn't know. They were strangers and family, connected and distant, united yet split. Thinner than water, but thicker than blood.
"I don't understand you sometimes," Helios said, taking the corporal form of a human lad and sitting near Acheron. Kawahira, as he currently went by. His dreams took on the landscape of Elysion as it was now – empty of active life. But the city was in the far distance, and they were next to the first of the rivers surrounding Hell from which Acheron had received his name.
"I don't see what there is to not understand," Acheron replied. One of the rings forged from the stygian metals was on his finger, deceptively simple in appearance despite what it was capable of. "I always act based on the rational choice."
Did he, though? Helios had been asleep for most of his time, his dreams what guarded Elysion and the subconscious of the mortal world, but Acheron had been awake with the others. And as they slipped away, one by one, he had shouldered more burdens until he was the only one left to watch over them.
He would never harm the prince, no. And Helios wanted to say that he would never resent Prince Endymion, either.
"A reminder," Helios tried. "At the very least, to prod his memories. Surely a small jog would be more than adequate to returning what he doesn't yet remember."
Acheron scoffed contemptuously. "If he can't remember such a crucial part of his life by himself," he scorned. "I will not be the ones to shake any of his memories loose. Some things, he must do himself to prove his worth."
Would he, though? Would he not hold resentment towards Endymion? Truly?
Helios sighed. It had hurt Endymion's reincarnation when the four kings sworn to him had ended up under Beryl's control, just as they had been taken by the darkness in their previous lives. To think that the last of the Golden Kingdom's legacy held him in derision would have hurt him deeply.
He himself wanted to believe that his fellow guardian did not hate Endymion, not truly. And yet Acheron had been aware and awake for much longer, and he had lost much while awaiting the prince's rebirth.
It was only his sense of duty, at this point, that kept him to his post. Helios couldn't help but wonder if one day the last guardian of the physical world would turn against Endymion.
"Relax," Acheron snapped, picking up on the wariness he must have expressed. "When he proves himself worthy, I will acknowledge him as the rightful king and surrender all the duties I currently govern."
The watcher of Hell's rivers rarely grew emotional, but when he did, he was an unstoppable storm, a disaster unmatched in the present times. Recognizing the stormy mood Helios backed off, picking his battles. He did have a point, besides. A prince had duties, and the balance of Terra had been precarious for so long, awaiting the rebirth of the bearers of star seeds. There was only so much in the sacrifices made by the guardians, by Sephira herself, for Endymion to not take up the duties.
To not realize the truth of the legacy he had to inherit.
For Acheron's sake, and for himself, Helios prayed that Chiba Mamoru would remember. It truly was too crucial a part of himself to remain forgotten, and Terra needed a king, not a prince.
From what she picked up, Kawahira wasn't the type to go places out of his own will most of the time, and Hotaru herself wasn't feeling all that adventurous.
In other words, the two of them made for a combination that would have likely stayed in the small house for who-knew-how-long, idling away the time that passed for everyone except themselves meditating upon whatever came to mind.
What kept them from doing so was a personality opposite of her grandson's. Granny kicked them out of the house on the second day after Hotaru's arrival, telling them to get some air so they wouldn't be sprouting mushrooms in the dust and dark of the house, even though she kept it clean and aired out.
"What would we even do?" Kawahira asked, scratching at the back of his neck.
"Show her around town, maybe?" Granny suggested before slamming the sliding doors shut. They rattled a bit in their frames, but didn't break.
"And don't feed her ramen!" came the muffled shout as an afterthought.
Sighing, Kawahira turned to her, the very image of a bored young man suffering from late summer's ennui. "Is there any place you want to see in particular?"
If she had to do something productive, then . . . .
"A library, and maybe a place where I can practice the violin?"
Hotaru tried to think of some more places, but right now they were the only ones that came to mind.
"Maybe a few places for food," she added. Granny fed her and that was something Hotaru was grateful for, but she should also find places so she wouldn't have to rely on her kindness all the time. Frozen time and body or not, food was a requirement regardless.
Kawahira took her around the streets near his place of residence dressed in what she learned was his usual wear, regardless of how lazy he seemed. He barely pointed out individual shops, only showing her the library like she had requested, and also the way to the park so she could get some fresh air.
"Though I don't recommend playing the violin there," he added. "A rather violent brat enjoys peace and quiet, and he sometimes patrols the town by himself to keep order."
That led to a very brief explanation about the Hibari Clan, an eccentric but influential family with ties to places that guarded Namimori because of reasons. His words exactly.
Something she could talk to her parents about. Maybe Michiru-mama or Haruka-papa, the ones that spent the most time 'rubbing elbows' with the elites in Japan, would know more about them.
He only voluntarily – and happily – pointed out one place, a shop by the name of Rakuraku-ken.
"That restaurant," Kawahira said, reverence clear in his voice as he stared at the sign. "Makes the best ramen I have ever tasted. If you ever get the chance, Tomoe-chan, you should definitely come. Their menu is flawless, but I recommend the soy sauce, salt, or miso ramen. The first is a miracle, the second a work of art, and the third a culinary wonder."
Hotaru wondered if he truly liked the food that much, or if he was a guardian sworn to protect ramen.
After ten minutes spent on waxing poetics about the wonders of Rakuraku-ken's menu, Kawahira looked wistfully at the shop before waving at her to move along. The tragic face he made as they passed it without ordering a bowl made Hotaru almost believe it was more likely the latter of her theories.
Almost.
The question was on the tip of her tongue, but she held it back. With the soul of Saturn asleep, so too did the powers that she had been granted – the ability to heal, the precognition and awareness, the magic within – all slumber with her, leaving her as Tomoe Hotaru, and only Tomoe Hotaru.
Even as Hotaru she knew of what fate had entangled Saturn in the past, remembered its weight, she didn't know how to ask the man who went by Kawahira Riku about his choices. His reasons.
Because she was also a guardian with a heavy duty, she knew how important her princess was to her. How, then, did the guardian Acheron do what he did? Avoid his prince, when he and Helios were the last survivors, even after the prince had been alerted to his survival – no, his existence. Why he didn't seem to care.
Why he accepted her presence in the mortal life he was currently living.
"Do I not scare you?" she asked instead, the lesser of two difficult questions.
"Of course you scare me," he said, looking bored. "You're a little girl – the most terrifying creatures alive, I say. It's why I've never had children, and little girls especially, despite being married several times. They seize the heart and force a change the centuries couldn't manage. Terrifying."
That wasn't an answer she had been expecting, and Hotaru sputtered. "I mean," she said. "Do you . . ."
"Hate you?" he offered when she trailed off. "Blame you?"
She nodded. At the end of it all, it had been Sailor Saturn who destroyed the Silver Millennium, reset everything for a new start. Death was needed for life, after all.
But did the old life not want to continue living? No. life was that of hope – even in hard times there was always the hope that tomorrow would be better, that they would live another day to see if their fortunes had changed.
And she had ended it with a single swing of the Silence Glaive.
In that his response to her was odd. He didn't meet his prince, and yet he allowed her to stay with him. Was it his memories of the Silver Millennium? But then if so – why not blame her, the one to have ended it?
"Not really," Kawahira answered. They walked without a purpose, and no one gave them a second glance, an unkept man and a young girl dressed primly, two people very different from each other walking together on a bright day. "It's been a long time, but I suppose not ever. Back then, when the wounds were fresher and hurt, I was busy helping restore life to Terra."
At Hotaru's surprised glance, he smirked. "What, did you think the current humans were all descendants from the Golden Kingdom?"
"I . . ." Actually, she hadn't given much thought about it at all, but now that he mentioned it –
How were there people left on Earth, when the planet's prince and bearer of its star seed had died with the rest of the Silver Millennium? When the planet was the closest to the moon's Silver Palace, where she had been summoned and awakened to destroy everything? When lives on other planets were ended by her?
What had happened in the machinations of fate for this to have happened?
His smirk widened. "Only those in Elysion survived, protected by the wards the guardians inside its walls put up," he answered. "The rest – with the Dark Kingdom's claws deep in their hearts – were killed. Story time?"
Without waiting for an answer from her he extended his hand, and flames colored a dark blue crept up around them at his brief gesture. No one noticed the oddity as he wove an illusion around her.
A dark orb floated in his hand, the outlines of continents and seas the only thing that gave it any features.
"One of the guardians was a powerful shaman who took the name of Sephira – the most powerful of all the guardians that survived your execution, and arguably the main reason why we were able to do so in the first place."
The silhouette of a woman with chin-length hair wavered. Hotaru couldn't make out her features or her colouring, but she reached out to cradle the globe, carefully like it was a nest of bird eggs.
"She . . . I wouldn't say 'resurrected', but she gave life to new beings that began to fill this world. They were identical in shape to us, and yet they were fundamentally different. Less potential for magic – at least in the sense you and I had. I suppose they had something," he made a face as he spoke of their potential, almost begrudgingly. "But still – a pale imitation, compared to what once had been."
As he spoke of life filling the world, pale yellow lights began to appear on the 'globe', little specks of brightness, until the orb was alit with hundreds, thousands of bright spots.
"And because they didn't understand the magic we did – the magic that still ran in the veins of the planet – it fell upon the guardians of Elysion to maintain the balance."
Sephira's silhouette faded away. Dark gold lights, a handful in number, scattered through the brightly lit areas.
"Through whatever means possible, even as we died," he added, and the darker lights began to extinguish, one by one, until there remained only two that glowed on the surface of the globe.
Him, and Helios.
"I'm sorry," Hotaru offered.
"Don't say that." Kawahira closed his fist, and the illusion disappeared with the action. "You're not," he replied, not accusingly.
But he was right. She wasn't – and maybe it was selfish of her, to think this way, but because this life, for her, was better. Kinder. Their fates had been rewritten, and second chances given to them.
It was an empty apology she had given him, and he would not accept a lie like that, not to appease her.
"I don't fear you or hate you, because while you killed almost all the Terrans, back then," he spoke mildly, as if he was discussing menu items other than ramen. "You also freed them from the control of a darkness we had no hope against, at the time. A kindness in the quick end. A favor, I guess you could say, is the reason for my choice in aiding you."
"Then the balance would be equal," Hotaru pointed out. She had saved their souls but ended their lives. "You owe me nothing."
And here, at the heart, was a question she wanted the answer to. "Why did you give me a place to stay?"
It wasn't that she couldn't stay elsewhere. Overseas. Homestays. Finding a place for one child to live would not have been hard, not with the connections her adoptive parents had. She could have moved on to avoid suspicion after staying too long in one place.
But the guardian that had hidden his identity until now stepped up, and while he would not meet his prince he did reveal himself.
For her sake? Or for something else?
Like, say, revenge?
Because if he wanted to kill her now, well, Hotaru would be defenseless. Her soul might not have registered him as a threat, but only as to how much he could affect the part of her that was Saturn's princess reborn. It did not react to something or someone that could kill her physically, like a knife or a car. Magic-wise he may have been 'lesser' but that would not stop him from killing her, if he chose.
And yet he didn't do any of that, so revenge didn't seem to be his motive. He didn't ask questions about his prince or the princess to her.
Just a kindness, to an associate of his prince? Or something more?
Kawahira's face was unreadable, and despite there being no change to how he presented himself to the world at large, he now looked like someone who wasn't quite mortal. Something more.
"Like I said," he spoke, words cryptic. "A favor. If it disturbs you, perhaps you can simply say you owe me one."
AN: Also came early this time because a snow day and apparently I need like at least 13 more chapters before KHR starts so might as well try to get things moving.
Acheron - Kawahira's name from the Golden Kingdom times. A guardian of Elysion from the same time as Helios, though his role was different.
Sweet Dreams~