Déjà vu. That was all the perplexed youth felt as his being rested in the eternal darkness—it was almost exactly the same as just before he'd returned for a short and extremely disappointing reunion with Kunzite. 'Rest' was perhaps not the correct verb to describe his actions, it was more he existed there as not one part of his slight body felt even remotely calm or relaxed with the knowledge of this being the way he was destined to live out the rest of his time. He also felt like 'living' was an incorrect choice, for if he were truly dead then there would feasibly be no cut-off point for this torturous procession. Unless…maybe when Queen Beryl had killed him it had been little more than a feverish dream from the attack his opposition had delivered to him. Maybe he'd wake up on the floor again, having seen a premonition warning him of his fate! He decided this was the most likely possibility in his surreal world at the moment and attempted to conjure an ice-crystal, with the intent of sending it into whichever Senshi annoyed him the most when he woke from the floor. Nothing happened. He exerted his energy many times but he didn't even produce a successful molecule, causing him to curse himself for his weakness.
There wasn't even a mere sliver of light to be found or seen in the claustrophobic prison surrounding him, yet this darkness was different to that in the Dark Kingdom. There wasn't the choking feeling of evil, danger or pain in this place as there was in every inch of his homeland, yet the darkness was far blacker than a starless night in a moonless world. His lips involuntarily curled back when he thought of a moon; it instantly reminded of that blonde bitch that had tried to foil many of his motions on the Earth. It was thinking about the past and where he lived that jolted his memory with the thought of his deceased comrades—if he was dead then Jadeite, Nephrite and countless Youma must also be in the area, serving out their punishments too! It wasn't exactly the company which he'd enjoy keeping, but to stay in permanent isolation instead of looking for old acquaintances—it'd be cutting his nose off to spite his face, and vanity was a property Kunzite liked about him. Now he detested acting like anything similar to how he had in the past for fear of it reminding him of the relationship.
He screamed at the top of his vocal range, calling out for his former allies repeatedly but to no avail. He couldn't hear a word of what he was shouting, as the darkness absorbed the sound without so much as a decibel being evident to the frantic male. He felt his voice box vibrating as a result of the high pitch he'd selected, but the aching silence was eerie. He knew him being deaf was not a feasible explanation, as he heard the soft sound of his teeth pressing against one another in agitation repeatedly as the monotony of the situation became more and more frustrating. The infuriated male beseeched his brain to grant him some sort of ability to enable him to see where he was, as there was no indication of any hint for the solution. He knew he wasn't blind, and repeated blinking did little more than lace his emerald eyes with a layer of irritating moisture. Why was he damned to isolation in a prison as dark as he felt? If only it was back when Kunzite-sama would hold him and everything creating disorder would unravel and they'd be fine…
Wait, the green-eyed king thought, it was Kunzite's fault he was here in the first place! If he wasn't constantly looking for an adoring glance or a love-filled kiss from the elder man he wouldn't have continuously performing rebellious actions to set him aside from the other generals and Youma. All the punishments he'd endured for him…yet when he'd killed Tuxedo Kamen, that infernal Cape Boy, for Kunzite, he'd accepted his death as lightly as if he'd been informed fish wouldn't be on the menu that day.
Anger bubbled in his blood, loathing the memories of the superior Shitennou, loathing him for toying with his life and heart incessantly for the innumerate amounts of minutes spent in each other's presence they'd spent together. The more he dwelt on it, the more he contemplated the notion that Kunzite was guilty and responsible for all the suffering Zoisite had experienced; perhaps he'd even gone so far as to request to Queen Beryl that she should kill him and the whole thing had been the conception of their evil plotting together. Maybe Kunzite had been straight after all. The idea became more plausible when he considered the fact Kunzite had been alone for quite some time after the nijizuishou were retrieved, and he had no idea how long he'd been unconscious before Kunzite aided him, and it looked like a complete set-up now. Another anguish-filled scream tore its way past his lips before he knew what was happening, this time the ratio was more generous towards than hatred than misery. The void momentarily became a blinding brilliant yet terrifying azure. He was unconscious again, unaware of where he was, and unaware of the great power now in his possession.
