A/N/bows head despondently/ Gomen, gomen, gomen nasai, minna! It's just that between Jikkan-chan's trip to AnimeFEST and school starting again for me, we've been a little... anou, quiet. Still, the chapter's done, we'd appreciate it if you'd review and we have one hundred and two now! /capers madly with Jikkan-chan/ Yay! We'd really appreciate it if the review count bounced up to a hundred and twenty-five, or better yet, a hundred and thirty!
Please? Onegai, minna-chan... we slaved over it so hard... /sniffles/ The whip was used muchly...
Chapter dedication: NalaravatheRed, who was our hundredth reviewer! Thank you so very much!
And now, onto the story!
Kakera ni Tsukiakari
A Bishoujo Senshi Sailormoon fanstory by Arashinobara Jikkankakyoku
IV – Rooyaru Shoukan
Royal Summons
'It surprised me when I approached; her hair was not silver, but crystal tresses that reflected the moonlight. Each strand threw a tiny rainbow that enhanced her beauty to the point that I believed the very embodiment of the aurora borealis was walking among we mortals…'
– Zoicite the Strategist; Comet Shitennou of the Four Brothers
"I've missed you so," she breathed, tears finally spilling over and wetting the customary black uniform he wore under his armour.
He buried his face in crystal tresses, inhaling spring nights and wildflowers all at once. "As have I, koishii. It has been a long time…"
"I was sleeping," she murmured, not sure what exactly she was saying but desperate to explain why she had not been able to find him before now. "I was sleeping and dreaming; I kept dreaming of you, Endymion-saiai."
She felt him smile against her hair and shivered slightly when the infinitely soft petals of a rose brushed the sensitive skin on the back of her neck before being tucked into one of her buns. "No need to explain, my beloved, for Silence has always been our friend." He laughed softly, but his voice was thick when he next spoke. "I too have dreamed… dreamed of you and this strange world I have stumbled into."
"It is your world," she said quietly.
"No; it is my earth, my planet, my daughter and mother all at once. But it is not my world." He released her from his embrace to gesture helplessly about, and through the dim glow of the in-between place of their stunted bond, she could see his handsome features clouded by near-exhaustion. "The soil is tired; where there were once vast forests are buildings and stone-and-glass structures that have no business being here. The atmosphere is injured; there are noxious gases about, and the temperature is far warmer.
"My world was beautiful; vibrant and teeming with life of all kinds." He looked back down at her. "This world is tired, injured and unhappy as well as completely unappreciated by its inhabitants. The Old Lore has been lost with the Fall – men have forgotten their heritage as Sons of Earth, tenders to her and her children as well as the Golden Kingdom."
"You can feel all that?" she marvelled. "I myself can sense that things are not what once were –"
"I am linked to this planet so intimately that should I ask it, mountains will rise and oceans will swallow the land," he stated flatly.
She nodded and reached up with both hands to turn his face gently back towards hers. From seemingly nowhere she produced a circlet fashioned of what appeared to be braided crystal and, standing on her toes, placed it on his head, sliding it so it fit snugly about his crown. She lowered her eyes demurely at his startlement. "I made it from my hair, the eve of the Fall," she explained softly.
His eyes softened and he reached up to feel the wicked spikes protruding from the thin crown – half of them pointing upwards, the other half downwards. No king or prince after him would wear this royal symbol lightly, for it was made for he, and he alone, the sharp tips scarce brushing his dark hair. His fingers encountered four empty claw settings and he looked quizzically at her bowed head. "What are these?"
She smiled slightly. "They represent your court," she answered, "the Shitennou who are sworn to you. I also warded it so that none but you, and perhaps one of your lineage, may wear it."
"Our lineage, dearheart," his mouth quirked then, and he withdrew a wreath of seven perfect roses, verdant stems and moon-white petals glowing softly with their own light. Seven pearls set among the blooms caught their light and held it, as the Earth drinks in the Sun's luminescence and reflects it for the sake of the Moon — but as her crown of swords, his circlet of roses was not defenceless: wicked glass thorns drew his blood as he set the wreath on her head.
"These seven roses came to me in a dream," he murmured, "where a woman of shadow and light bade me forge a crown for my queen, and the thorns would be turned from her sacred flesh and blood." He tapped the glass with a fingernail so that a pure note rang out musically and she removed the crown to examine it, eyes alight with wonder.
"Seven roses; seven pearls – is there a significant meaning to this?"
He brushed a callused hand down her silken cheek, eyes half-closing as she turned her face into his palm. "I could find no moonstones, and seven is a number of power. The pearls are special ones that you can tune to your magic, and they will provide extra warding against anyone but yourself wearing this."
She kissed him then, long and hard, slow and sensuous, and tore her lips away from his when the need for air became persistent to her body. He looked at her, almost surprised, before grinning boyishly. "How wanton you can be, my Serenity," he murmured, drawing her to him once more.
"I am called back to Dream," she told him breathlessly as they broke apart again. Indeed, he could see her fading, and it took twice as much effort to hold her now as it had a moment before… "But when I wake again, I shall summon my court – what of yours?"
He indicated the delicately-wrought circlet about his head, smiling sadly as her features became almost translucent, and he could only grasp at smoky folds of material. "I will call them now, while I am aware; when I wake properly, however, I shall begin my search for you and nothing, not even the sons of this twisted daughter-world of mine, will stand in my way."
He could feel her smile more than see it now, and the faint outlines of a pair of transparent lavender-blue eyes crinkled at him. "Do not remove the block – not yet," she breathed, sweet voice thin to his ears. "Trust in Time… aishiteru, my Endymion…"
"Watashi mo," he answered sombrely, and, sparing a last, half-hateful, half-despairing glance at the horrible wall separating him and his beloved, Endymion turned away, the weight of the crystal circlet feeling strangely heavy on his brow; reassuring in an almost agonisingly bittersweet way.
Endymion returned to the darkness and felt about until he encountered four other threads, frayed and thin compared to the golden-silver pulse of the link he shared with Serenity, even in its blocked state.
Remembering the way his four protectors had led Beryl's armies against the Silver Millennium, the ethereal prince's hands clenched and he wondered if he was doing the right thing, restoring a quartet of traitors to his side.
Then he recalled the flicker of horror in Kunzite's face as he fought Endymion himself, and the oddly relieved spark in the white-haired general's eye as his liege thrust the sword home. His mouth opened to begin the summons and then another image flickered into existence; Zoicite grabbing Serenity by a handful of crystal tresses, sword raised high before a blast of power from the Golden Crystal ended his life.
'He would have killed Serenity,' he thought, eyes closing in anguish or rage, he did not know… 'I was almost too late… will I risk her life once more?'
Serenity appeared, smiling at him ever-so-gently, and he closed his eyes before beginning the song that would open the gates to his brothers' minds, more conscious than ever of the four empty settings in his crown; the crown that she had created with her own hands and of her own magic as well as of her, her own hair…
'If they are still traitors, I will kill them myself.'
It was an eerie melody, sung by a bizarrely familiar tenor. A strange plucking tune harmonised with the long-dead language that the singer shaped with a clever tongue and led its audience – four men, brothers all – to a place where silence pressed in on all sides, the man's song the only thing keeping it at bay.
Then the world exploded, darkness thrown into light by a figure clothed in armour that spat flames and sparks, jet-black hair whipping in the inferno even as tongues of hungry fire licked at each strand.
"Brothers!" the blazing entity thundered, golden fire streaming from his body as he raised a hand that crackled with sun-bright energy. They all cowered from him, pressing faces flushed with fear and awe to the earth below. "Brothers!" the man repeated, his voice like a dragon's roar, resounding in their minds and tearing through their souls. "I, Prince of the Golden Heritage, call my brothers to me! Sun, Star, Comet and Space Avatars! Shitennou! Hear my summons and respond! Awaken! Come forth to claim thy place at my side!"
Any one of the four generals who dared to raise their eyes again saw that he wore a crown of braided crystal with swords set in it. Half of those swords pointed upwards, half of them downwards, and four empty claw settings on the circlet's front lacked four stones.
"Hear me, Shitennou …"
A golden inferno consumed the figure, but not before the generals saw the features thrown into stark relief by the greedy flames.
"Endymion-sama!"
Four generals woke up with a start. "Prince…"
Endymion smiled tiredly, and closed his eyes once more. It was time to Sleep again, but when he next awoke…
'Just a little longer, koishii…'
Mamoru rubbed his eyes with a sigh that was more laughter than despondence. It was strange; he had rested a full night, but his body was walking the thin line between exhaustion and collapse. His mind, however, was sharp, and something in him felt strangely vitalised. He would probably have been skipping if his body hadn't been loudly complaining that he wasn't still in bed.
Shaking his head ruefully, he turned his attention back to the junior swim team tryouts, wishing desperately that his best friend was here to take a little of the pressure off his shoulders – it was a very simple procedure, really, choosing the members, but somewhat tedious and he couldn't help but think that he'd fall asleep long before everything was over. Usagi, however, as captain of the junior track and field team, was down at javelin tryouts.
He smiled softly, remembering how in only her freshman year, she beat and set several records in discus, high jump and every track race the school held. Due to the way she had gone through a sudden phase of clumsiness, she had klutzed out during her long jump and hurdle tryouts and had been too humiliated to do them over. It was amazing now, though, to watch her in action. Truly she lived up to the name 'bunny'; tiny, but fast.
Realising his thoughts had wandered yet again, Mamoru jerked to attention as he signalled the candidates, who had, by now, warmed up and were already in the water, watching him expectantly, to go. He would probably have slipped back into his stupor if he hadn't spotted a newcomer with blue hair cropped to her chin cut smoothly through the water with strong, swift strokes.
Eyes widening in delight and almost triumph, he laughed out loud, standing to lend her a hand out of the pool. He didn't even need to check again to know that she was almost three metres ahead of the next-fastest person.
"No doubt about it, Mizuno-san," he grinned, clapping a hand on her shoulder in congratulations. She blushed furiously, shooting a coy look from beneath navy lashes before lowering her gaze demurely.
"Will I be considered then?" she asked as soon as she had caught her breath. Mamoru shook his head almost embarrassedly at her modesty and covered his eyes in exasperation as he spotted a wild-eyed young man almost bouncing up to them.
"'Considered?' Mizuno, you aren't getting away!" Coach Umidori beamed from under his heavy brow as he did a little hop-skip routine. He was young in comparison to most of the other teachers at Moto Azabu, and as a result was far more light-hearted and ready to dispense with formalities and joke as well as use the students' given names.
"Perhaps we can wangle her into the senior team as well," the twenty-five-year-old continued, smirking. "Kami knows some people have been slacking off –" he shot a mock-meaningful look at Mamoru, who raised his eyebrows in exaggerated shock, pointing at himself and mouthing 'me?' "Hai, you, Mamoru-kun. Better start exercising again before I pronounce you too slow to pull your own weight, Captain!"
"Oi!" Mamoru laughed, tiredness falling away from his body as he turned back to the pool to time the others. He felt a distinct prickling at the back of his neck and his mirth faded slowly as keen dark eyes swept over the area.
Dismissing it, he muttered a string of words that would have made a sailor blush as he realised he'd missed about half the other candidates' times and putting the disconcerting feeling of being watched out of his head as he dealt with Coach Umidori's complaints.
"Now is not the time to be mooning about boys, Ami!" Luna admonished gently. "Senshi have a higher calling, and that is the calling of their Princess. No man should sway a Sailor Senshi from this objective, because no man is the equal of She."
Ami, freshly scrubbed and glowing from her day's accomplishments, padded out of the shower and began to towel herself off fiercely. "Demo Luna-san! I just made the senior co-ed swim team – is that not a thing to be proud of?"
Luna's cinnabar eyes softened noticeably. "Aye, a wonderful thing, but everything – and I do mean everything – comes second to the Princess."
Sighing, Ami propped her head with a hand. "It's very hard to think that way when I've never met her, don't remember feeling her the way you do. There's a longing in my soul I cannot fill, and it seems to have been that way forever."
The cat leapt lightly up beside the bluenette and nuzzled her reassuringly. "Perhaps I am quite remiss in being so harsh on you. I, too, feel the longing, and it is unfair of me to be so urgent. So far, there have been two strikes from the Dark Kingdom, and this Sailormoon… I do not understand her, nor her defender Tuxedo Kamen."
Ami giggled softly. "He's very handsome, though," she murmured as she opened her English text.
Luna flushed. "That's not – the point is that he could be a danger to our mission. There has never been a Senshi of the Moon before; she could be an enemy sent to lure us into a false sense of security – we trust in who we think is our ally, and they suddenly turn on us? We cannot take that risk, Ami."
The bluenette nodded sombrely. "Hai, hai… demo she feels safe. She feels, anou, familiar."
Luna closed her eyes and nodded. "That is what I fear," she whispered. Shaking herself lightly, she continued to speak. "In your subspace pocket, there is a small hand-held computer. It can be used to scan enemies, to check the health of an ally and holds all the knowledge of the Silver Millennium as well as a Dark presence detector. Use it to identify Sailormoon and Tuxedo Kamen when we next battle, whether it's by their side or against them.
Ami, feeling cool metal beneath her fingers, nodded and stood to get ready for bed.
The blonde gazed into space, eyes of sky and sea clouded in thought as she dragged a thick, ivory-backed hairbrush through sun-gold tresses whose scent brought into mind harvest apples and autumn twilights.
Four…five…six…
"She's somewhere out there, Artemis," the girl whispered. "Something's wrong, though – she feels… not whole. Fragmented; somehow flawed and splintered and broken."
Twelve…thirteen…fourteen…
Her white cat blinked slowly, feline eyes – eyes a shade that mirrored her own – reflective and holding a darkness indicating worry. When he spoke, it was with a husky, almost musical tenor. "Scion of Venus," he intoned quietly. "Avatar of Aphrodite; you remember the legend of the Moon Royals' heritage?"
Twenty…twenty-one…twenty-two…
She settled back, still counting rhythmic strokes, a small smile upturning the corners of delicate lips. "Tell me again," she half-requested, half-ordered, "as it is my favourite tale."
Twenty-eight…twenty-nine…thirty…
Artemis chuckled softly and padded over his charge, curling into her warm side. He recognised the faint lilt to her speech and knew it was the result of half-remembered court and etiquette classes coupled with her cultured upbringing. "Very well."
Thirty-six…thirty-seven…thirty-eight…
His voice took on the familiar timbre of a storyteller, pitched slightly deeper and resonating subtly. "Ye may know of the Queen Selenity, she of silver hair and lavender eye, daughter of Selene the Moon. Ye may know also of Selene's brother Helios, the Sun, and the scion who bears his name and badge and watches over Dream – but that is another story."
Forty-four… forty-five… forty-six… pause to absently unravel a tiny snarl –
"Her Royal Majesty was a daughter, but she had no father to call her own; none but the lunar dust her Mother had lovingly shaped with her own hands, mixed with many lonely tears shed over the perfectly sculpted features and body. Selene laboured over Her Selenity as Pygmalion did his Galatea, and in the end breathed life into the body so that Selenity might be Selene on the Moon and rule the people while the Goddess removed the combs that held Her hair in buns so that the infinitely fine, silver tresses – called moonlight by mortals – would reach the Earth's people, whom She did adore."
– forty-seven… forty-eight… forty-nine…
"When Selenity opened her eyes, Selene was overjoyed; Her radiance shone brighter than ever, and Terrans walked the night merely to bask in the brilliance of Her happiness. Before ascending to Her True throne where She would watch, guard and counsel for eternity, She granted Her daughter three things."
Fifty-five… fifty-six… fifty-seven…
"Grace of the body and of the mind, that she might rule her new people wisely and tenderly, was one. For her second gift, She reached into the plane of Illusions and withdrew a sentient relic of immeasurable might – something that did not quite magnify, but rather channelled and refined – the power of its wielder. It was called the Maboroshi no Ginzuishou; the Illusion Silver Crystal, Selene told Her daughter, and It would only find its true place by the true Lunar ruler's side. Lastly, Selene plucked the essence from the flower lavender, which She had always favoured above all, and placed it in the once-colourless orbs of Her daughter's eyes, granting her True Sight."
Sixty-three… sixty-four… sixty-five…
"I spoke true when I revealed the Maboroshi no Ginzuishou was sentient, for It housed a strange and terrible power: Chaos in its ultimate form, caged by crystal. Chaos within Order – Order within Chaos. A never-ending paradox, but one that – strangely – felt what its wielder felt, and loved Selenity dearly. As Selene had once been lonely, so Selenity now felt alone. Her people loved her, but she could not descend from the pedestal she had been placed on without betraying all she had been created and stood for. The Ginzuishou knew this, and raged that It could do no more for her, until one day…"
Seventy-one… seventy-two… seventy-three… pause again, this time simply to listen intently –
"It would give her a daughter, It decided, but despaired of the how – any daughter It could give her would be soulless crystal and illusions and chaos and order and paradoxes. Once again thwarted from Its desperate desire to please and Its promise, It resorted to Its Origins: that of the Illusion, for inspiration."
– and continue; seventy-four… seventy-five… seventy-six…
"How bitter Its despondence and fierce Its joy was when It could find no other way: the Ginzuishou would father the child, and she – for she would be a daughter, It knew – would grow within Selenity herself. But what of the serene royal's honour? Would she be scorned for mothering a child whose father would never be known?"
Eighty-two… eighty-three… eighty-four…
"No matter. A child would be perfect, and upon deciding, It manifested Itself as a man with forget-me-not eyes and crystal locks that split the light about Him so that it seemed He glowed gently with its very blessing."
Ninety… ninety-one… ninety-two…
"For nine hundred Terran years the seed It had planted within Selenity grew – for Its seed was cold with no potential and it takes many, many years for a new soul to be born – but nine hundred years passed quickly in the eyes of the Lunar people and their Queen, for they measured their lives in centuries and millennia. At last, a child was born – an honour your humble companion had the good fortune to witness – and she had solemn eyes of lavender-blue that loved everything they gazed upon, Her Royal Majesty's flawless features and the same unique crystal hair as her sire. They would have named her Aurora for her otherworldly beauty so enhanced by the ever-present glow of colour playing over her person, but the Maboroshi no Ginzuishou whispered in Selenity's ear that Its daughter was to be called Serenity, and Serenity she was."
Ninety-eight…ninety-nine… a hundred.
She set aside her brush and tossed her head so each individual golden strand caressed the air lightly before slender fingers combed through them once, twice, thrice, and then the same hands braided the long mane deftly before neatly tying it off with a red silk ribbon. "A beautiful story, Artemis," she stated with a wistful smile, "most artfully retold, and I did ask you to do so for mine ears – but where does it factor into everything?"
Artemis leapt from his position against her side on the armchair wing and curled up on her bed, head resting on his front paws and his tail tucked comfortably around him. "Your memories of the Fall –"
"Aren't the clearest," she finished quietly, climbing into bed next to him and moving the long plait so that it was out of her way before she snuggled under the covers. The faint orange glow about her faded as she reverted back to the persona of Aino Minako – England's very own Sailor V – and Sailorvenus of the Silver Millennium vanished. "But I know enough. I've known for –"
"Years, yes," Artemis nuzzled her arm comfortingly, belying his next blunt words. "But all of you were dead, and only Luna and I witnessed the True Fall, when Her Royal Majesty gave up her mortal life – and quite possibly immortal – for her subjects. She sealed Metallia away, aye, and Beryl too, but even goddesses pay a price when they interfere directly in the lives of mortal Destiny as the Queen did…"
Artemis sighed as he remembered a day a thousand years ago, eyes closing wistfully. "For seven days and seven nights, backed by the royals of the other planets' power, she gathered each innocent soul and laid them to sleep in a separate dimension that would only be unlocked by the Maboroshi no Ginzuishou's power when the young Princess was ready. Perhaps she was not at all unknowing of the true identity of He who fathered the young girl, for she inscribed upon the seal in words of ancient power: 'The Crystal Millennium, Her Royal Majesty Neo-Queen Serenity's subjects'…"
"Again, what does that have to do with this?" Minako interrupted testily. Her shoulders slumped a little and her eyes were downcast. "Sorry for snapping, Arty, but I just… she's out there! The fact that I can feel her means I should go to her!"
"Nay, you should wait." Artemis closed his eyes and appeared to doze, but he spoke again, tone serious. "She will summon you either way, and if she is fragmented… then Selenity has succeeded in her task, Selene rest her noble soul."
"The Queen is with the Goddess, right?" Minako prodded his lazy form gently, nose wrinkling. "Arty?"
He opened a vividly blue eye, and she could see his grief. "If only it were so… Her Royal Majesty has returned to the Moon from which she was born."
"Earth to earth," Minako whispered, recalling something the minister had spoken at 'her' great-uncle's funeral. "Ashes to ashes…"
"Dust to dust," Artemis nodded, a grim smile forming on his feline features. "For dust thou art and unto dust shalt thou return," he quoted.
"Where's that from?" Minako asked curiously.
"The Christian God is speaking to Adam after discovering he had consumed the apple of wisdom, which He had forbidden. The line I just spoke? Genesis 3:19, of the Bible."
"Is it really true?" Minako knew that during his millennium-long stint in stasis, Artemis had been an almost omniscient entity and walked the Realm of Knowledge in Dream – it was how he knew of the Moon monarchs' full heritage, after all. The cat shook his head and closed the eye again, sighing.
"There was an Adam and an Eve of sorts, in the Beginning," he twitched his whiskers and cleaned them thoughtfully before continuing to speak, "Adam was called Chaos, for he was male, and males were meant to be dominant in strength, war and conflict. Eve was called Cosmos, for she birthed Existence – the universe."
Minako prodded him. "You'll tell me this story too?"
Artemis opened both his eyes and chuckled, stretching luxuriously. "Not tonight, little love, because you have school tomorrow. It is already early, and what you felt from Serenity is passed by."
The blonde nodded reluctantly and closed her eyes. When Artemis was sure she was asleep, he slinked off the bed and his small form shimmered, limbs lengthening and changing…
He looked down at his human body and flexed long fingers experimentally before a serene smile crossed his ageless features and he strode over to the window, gazing at the full moon as his eyes grew suspiciously moist.
"Koishii, I am so lonely without you," he whispered. Sighing, he settled back down on the bed and stroked his charge's smooth hair and thought of a husky laugh accompanied with a flutter of yellow and black silk. He inhaled sharply at the tightening in his chest and bowed his head. "Ah, Hoshizora-neko…"
Jadeite's beating, coupled with the injuries to his insides, had put him in an almost catatonic state as his body attempted to heal itself. Only his brothers' nursing and healing knowledge prevented death this time. It was Kunzite's turn to sit by the Sun Shitennou's still form, his blue eyes gazing intently at Jadeite's closed ones. The only reason Beryl had not yet sentenced Jadeite to death for his failure was the massive store of energy he had taken from Sailormoon.
Kunzite shook his head bewilderedly. How could such a small girl – Jadeite described her as standing perhaps a little taller than his own chin — possess such fantastic vitality? It seemed preposterous, and yet —
He was shaken from his thoughts '— your tail-chasing, Empty Heaven King; let us call a spade a spade —' by the noise indicating someone had entered the room: Zoicite and Nephrite, returned from the Throne Room, and as might be expected from those who have been called into the presence of the Queen of the Damned, looking most unhappy.
Zoicite ignored everything around him in favour of making straight for their wounded brother, checking his pulse, his temperature and his bandages to be certain that no-one had attacked Jadeite with any particularly harsh stares, random specks of dust or, horror of horrors, a slight breeze.
Kunzite ignored him in turn — let the boy fuss if he liked; it kept him out of trouble and Jadeite in something closer to good health — and instead turned to Nephrite; the King of Stars had locked the door behind him and leaned against it for good measure, a one-man obstacle against the world in general and Beryl in particular.
"And what does our beloved mistress wish today?" Kunzite inquired acidly. He had lost any manner of respect he had once held for the dark queen with Jadeite's punishment — here she was, demanding energy, and flogging the underling who had almost gotten himself killed to bring her so much of it? 'Fool. Daughter of fools.'
Nephrite allowed his lips a grim twitch. "Our most forgiving and munificent Queen has decided, in her boundless wisdom, that Jadeite may be 'forgiven his failure' and allowed to return to Terra in the name of gathering more chi for the Dark Kingdom's noble cause — immediately, if not sooner."
Kunzite growled low; it was all the warning Zoicite got before the youngest Shitennou found himself seized by the collar and flung up and over Jadeite's bed — backhand — and sailing across the room. "Wa —!"
He tumbled in midair, getting his feet between himself and the unforgiving stone, and pushed off of the wall, turning a neat back flip to land light as a cat on the flagstones.
"Tenkaichi's Balls, Kunzite, what in the name — what was that for?" the Lord of Comets demanded, looking suitably peeved.
"We swore several oaths," his eldest brother said through clenched teeth, "And one of them was never to shoot the messenger."
"Which makes it okay to throw me around instead?"
"Yes," Kunzite told him with what he knew was his most infuriating grin.
"…King of Empty Space," Zoicite muttered. "In the head."
The white-haired man gave him a cool look; Zoicite raised his chin and looked defiant. Kunzite smiled thinly, and the boy went pleasingly white. 'There, that should keep him nicely paranoid…' He'd retaliate tomorrow. Or possibly the next day …
He turned his thoughts and his eyes to Jadeite; Nephrite was bending over him, looking worried.
"He's no worse than he was an hour ago, Nephrite," Kunzite said lazily. "The Great Healer Fuss-and-Bother over there can tell you the same thing, I'm sure."
Nephrite looked over at Zoicite; the boy bristled a little at the name, but nodded. "He's a bit better, really," Zoi told them after a moment. "I think he might even wake up…"
The sweep of relief was heady; he allowed it to wash over him for a moment before putting it firmly aside. "Oh, really?" Kunzite murmured, striding back over to the bed. "Like so?" He seized Jadeite's earlobe between finger and thumb and gave it a twist.
"YIPE!" Jadeite startled awake with a yelp, eyes wide with confusion. "What the —" he tried to leap up, but was restrained before even Kunzite could stop him by the apparent agony of his ribs. "Ow fuck," he said decisively, and proceeded to describe his opinion of his circumstances in general and Kunzite in particular in terms of their origin, sexual preference and probable location after death.
"Oh yes, he'll be fine," Nephrite chortled, blue eyes twinkling merrily.
It had been nearly a week since the last blackout, and both Mamoru and Usagi had reached an unspoken agreement not to speak further of the matter. Usagi had relaxed relatively quickly, and the paleness her face had taken on before she and Mamoru had shared confidences returned to its usual glow. Mamoru, however, watched her keenly, almost helplessly. This was one burden he would not be able to take upon himself and himself alone; he would not be able to spare her the pain.
As the days passed, however, he allowed himself to breathe a little easier, but unlike the more optimistic Usagi, he did not fool himself into thinking everything had passed by. The youma had not attacked since the first day of classes; although this only served to heighten Mamoru's suspicions, he knew that for now all they could do was wait.
Meanwhile, Mizuno Ami, at Usagi's insistence, had joined the circle that ate lunch beneath the old oak. She was a quiet girl, but always lit up when she saw Usagi, and they often chattered about nonsensical things in which Ami's logic would fight desperately against Usagi's more whimsical outlook on life. Most of the time, however, she sat with Saori and read silently before the other girls dragged both out of their shells. Although she had struck Mamoru as a person with slight problems with self-esteem, the swim team seemed to be doing wonders for her confidence.
Mamoru watched them now, smiling slightly at the blonde and bluenette's conversation ("Usagi-chan, colours don't have flavours; you can't taste them…"), Kobayashi's five-hundred and something-th attempt to get Saori to see a movie with him ("Saori-sama, I beg of you, take pity on this unworthy one!") and rolling his eyes at Motoki and Reika. The soda jerk was supposed to be on a study break, with Usagi filling in for his duties and Mamoru to tutor him, but he seemed more interested in giving his girlfriend mushy looks.
"Back to your books, Motoki-kun," he said teasingly. "The Bio quiz isn't going to ask you to label and write an essay on the parts and qualities of Reika-san's lovely eyes."
Reika went a becoming shade of pink; Motoki flushed and might have tried to retort, but was interrupted by a clap on the shoulder from Asanuma.
"Ne, I'm sure he wasn't thinking about that, Mamoru-senpai," the junior said with a grin. "I bet 'Toki was thinking about burgers, candlelight, a box of wine, then maybe a little later, if he played his cards right, getting to see Reika-san's —"
He was pummelled into silence from three sides: Motoki elbowed him firmly in the gut, which knocked the wind out of him and brought him into easy range of Mamoru's reproving smack over the head, and as a coup de grace, Usagi dropped three ice cubes down his collar as she brought their drinks to the counter.
"You shouldn't be so crude, 'Numa-kun," she told him reprovingly as he went into a contorted little dance, and distributed their orders. "Girls like a gentleman — let's see, green tea for Ami-chan, and seltzer water for Reika-san, and cream soda for Saori-senpai…"
Mamoru and Motoki gave Asanuma smug smirks behind Usagi's back, making Naru giggle, but were quick to present the blonde with a studious mien when she turned to them. Asanuma merely fumed.
Usagi finished distributions — a mocha shake for Mamoru, a Coke for Motoki, a hot cocoa with extra whipped cream and two cherries for Asanuma, who took it grumpily and went to sit beside Ami, and a Pocari Sweat for Naru; Kobayashi flinched at the sight, picked up his Mountain Dew, and begged Saori to switch places with him — and was turning to the sink when someone flagged her attention — a random Azabu junior on Asanuma's other side.
"Kon'wa, Yumikumo-kun!" Usagi said brightly, and Mamoru snapped mental fingers. That was it, Boujin Yumikumo, captain of the chess club. Tenshiko knew everybody. "What can I get for you today?"
"Your promise to return to the Chess Club?" Boujin asked hopefully. "We need our vice-captain back!"
Usagi gave him a chiding look. "Mou, Yumikumo-kun, I told you last year I'd have to quit to make room in my schedule, and I meant it. Are you really having so much trouble with Myoushu-chan?"
The junior scratched the back of his head. "Well… no," he said reluctantly. "Myoushu-kun is a very hard worker, and I'm sure she'll do wonders for the team — but she's not you, Usagi-chan." He gave Usagi an appealing look, and warning bells went off in Mamoru's mind.
Usagi blushed, and Mamoru was annoyed that he couldn't enjoy how cute the pinker shade of her cheeks made her because this boy was flirting with his Tenshiko. "Maa, ne… flattery isn't going to get me to change my mind, Yumi-kun. I thought you were happy for me when I got the track captaincy; what changed?"
Boujin waved his hands a little frantically, back-pedalling as fast as his tongue could go. "No, no, it's not that — I am happy for you, Usagi-chan, honest! You're so gorgeous in your track uniform — I mean, you're such a fantastic athlete —"
"It's funny, Boujin; I never pegged you for a suicidal idiot," Asanuma muttered under his breath.
Mamoru idly cracked his knuckles. Boujin flinched.
"Well I would never have 'pegged' Mamoru-san for a homicidal one," Saori said primly.
Boujin flinched again; Usagi looked puzzled, and was blushing a little more. "I… well, thank you, Yumi-kun, that was very nice of you to say, but I really am proud of my position, so unless you had anything else to ask me…?"
Mamoru's gaze narrowed. Boujin was beginning to sweat.
"Ee, eeto, eeto na… Tea!" the junior blurted.
Usagi perked up at what she thought was a drink order. "Ah, hai! You like buckwheat tea, don't you, Yumi-kun? I'll be right back."
She turned away even as she spoke, leaving Boujin standing at the corner, mouth still moving.
"Demo… I was going to buy you some," the chess genius said lamely.
Asanuma patted his shoulder. "There, there, Boujin; you're hardly the first to ask, and certainly not the first to find her completely oblivious. But you might want to run anyway."
"I would?" Boujin asked blankly. Asanuma pointed, and Boujin turned to look over his shoulder.
Mamoru smiled pleasantly.
Boujin went white.
"Ah… I think I'll just be going," said the nervous junior, fumbling for his wallet and putting down a bill. "Please apologise to Usa — to Tsukino-san for me about the tea — Asanuma, Kobayashi, I'll see you in class," he stuttered, and backed three steps toward the door before he finally broke and ran.
They all stared after him for a moment.
"Yumi-kun!" Usagi called, trotting out of the storeroom. "I'm afraid we're all out of buckwheat tea, can I get you something else? …Yumi-kun?" She noticed that the entire arcade was now staring at her, and stumbled to a halt. "…Why is everybody staring at me? Where did Yumi-kun go?"
The Crown rang with laughter.
Usagi shook her head in exasperation. "You're all really weird, I hope you know that," she murmured. "'Numa-kun? Did Yumi-kun say where he was going?"
"Ah — hai, Usagi-chan," Asanuma managed between giggles. "He had to run off suddenly, but he left you the money for the tea… I'll give it back for you, okay?"
Mamoru whistled a jaunty tune, raking a hand through his hair and twiddling his thumbs. Usagi shot him a half-reproachful, half-suspicious look. "Mamo-chan?"
So… perhaps she wasn't quite as clueless to what he'd been doing as he'd thought she was.
"Hai, Tenshiko?"
"What did you do to poor Yumi-kun?"
He gave her an innocent look. "Now what makes you think I did something to him?"
She rolled her eyes. "Oh, I don't know — maybe because you've done something to every boy who's tried to ask me out ever?"
"Busted," Kobayashi muttered, grinning. Saori elbowed him.
"Oh, is that what he was doing?" Mamoru said lightly. "And here I thought he was trying to coerce you into winning him another tournament…"
She gave a most unladylike snort. "Oh, I'm sure he was out for that, too, but —" Her mouth shut abruptly, a queer expression crossing her face.
Mamoru's brows drew together. "…Tenshiko?"
"Gomen, Motoki-niisan, could you perhaps mind the arcade again?" Her voice was languid. "There's someplace I must be…"
"Ah — of course, Usagi-chan," Motoki said slowly. "I was starting to get a headache from all of this biology — Usagi-chan? Where are you going?"
He swivelled on his stool to watch as she wandered dreamily out of the Crown, still wearing Unazuki's spare apron.
My cavalier…"I'll go after her," Mamoru heard himself saying, and wondered when he had stood up. It seemed like a good idea, so he went with it, never noticing when his eyes slid completely out and then back into focus, golden sparks dancing about sapphire irises in time to the dual pulse racing through his veins.
They all stared after him, no-one quite daring to ask another, 'Did you see that?' and Naru went very still, remembering a bout of rumour-gathering:
Okame Aisetsu from Class B, normally so calm and quiet, babbling nervously and waving his hands about before a confused but eager audience. "I'm telling you, something's up with Chiba-senpai! His eyes were gold, and I wasn't the only one who…"
Silence reigned for a moment, each at the counter startled or confused or pensive or wondering….
Ami stiffened suddenly, staring at her bag, and seeing that she had started her companions, flushed and jumped to her feet, gathering it up and bobbing a quick bow.
"Gomen ne, minna, but I just remembered — Hahaue said this morning that she wants me home early — please tell Usagi-chan I'll call her later — sumimasen!" She shouldered the bag and was halfway out the door before anyone could speak.
Kobayashi was the first to break the silence, taking a large gulp of his Dew before letting out the mother of all belches.
"Kuso! Air, somebody, air!" Asanuma bawled, flailing wildly in his seat, his windmilling arms inadvertently chasing the smell of half-digested soda and chips away.
Kobayashi let out a smaller burp, this time covering his mouth sheepishly with a large hand. "Eh…gomen ne?" He looked hopefully at Saori, who let out a half-amused, half-disgusted snort and turned back to her Law textbook.
Seeing his friend droop with something akin to depression, Asanuma whipped out his notebook again. "They're still not doing anything yet… all Mamoru-senpai does is chase off the boys interested in Usagi-chan and nothing else!"
Kobayashi, now over his humiliation, was staring at the automatic doors of the arcade. "Don't you think it's funny how she just rushed out like that, and then he followed her? Maybe it was staged? Maybe they're already dating and want to — mmmrph!"
"That's nasty, 'Yashi!" Asanuma complained. "Ami just went out soon after and that'd mean they're all together right — eurk!"
Reika arched an eyebrow at Saori, and both sighed simultaneously, removing their hands from the boys' mouths.
"Must be some kind of twisted logic males have," Reika muttered, unsure of whether or not laughter was appropriate at the moment.
Saori merely blew her fringe out of her eyes and began to rub her temples wearily. "It's just one of those things," she answered, tone sour.
Naru and Motoki exchanged glances, and he nodded ever-so-slightly towards the counter. Exhaling loudly, Naru nodded to the others. "I'll be right back."
Asanuma and Kobayashi stared after her retreating figure as the doors slid open and she slipped though, hurrying in the direction that Usagi, Ami and Mamoru had gone.
"…Lucky man," Asanuma muttered. "Three girls… itai! Watch where you spill that thing!"
Glossary
saiai—'beloved'
'Watashi mo'—'Me too; I as well'
koishii—'dear; beloved; darling'
Hoshizora-neko—'Cat of the starry sky.' A reference to Aika.
hahaue—(polite) '(one's own) mother'
A/N: REVIEW, PLEASE!