Kunzite appeared at breakfast looking pale and tired, a state that brought speculation from all quarters of the mess hall. He otherwise conducted himself as normal, although he excused himself earlier than usual, and if anyone noticed Zoicite was missing from breakfast, nothing was said. Kunzite took his paperwork to his quarters, leaving his aide to sort out incoming problems and contact him if anything required immediate action. Nothing did, and so it was nearly dinner time when the general put away his papers, and rose from the chair and began to change for the night meal.
"Kunzite-sama?" The sound was so soft it was like a breeze rather than a word. Bare-chested, he tossed the shirt in his hand onto another chair and came over to sit beside his charge.
"I am here, Zoicite." He picked up the hand – still cold, but no longer icy – that lay on the bed between them, holding it in both of his own. "You are safe now – you must rest and recover."
"Where – is this? Kunzite, I'm scared…" The boy tried to lift his other hand, but the effort was too much for him. He scrabbled feebly with his hand at the covers for a moment, only to relax back, panting with the effort.
"Hush, Zoicite. You are in my quarters. You are safe here." He rubbed the smaller hand between his own, surprised at, of all things, how smooth and soft it felt. "I brought you back here – do you remember?"
Zoicite nodded slightly, closing his eyes. There were deep shadows under his eyes now, aging him, as the bruises and pallor gave him an unnatural look. In the dimmer light, his fair hair was streaked with darker shades of red and gold. "How –did you find me?"
"You called me. I heard it – felt it. I knew you needed help, and I went to you." Kunzite blinked slowly as the boy's face infused with a steady flow of heat, turning crimson.
"I – I had no right, sir. I am sorry… I didn't know what to do." Zoicite turned his head away, and Kunzite, for the first time, smiled.
"You did well enough, to contact me at need. I will hardly fail you for that ability. But I am curious – why me? Why not one of your own classmates, or your own instructors?"
The blush deepened, as the boy realized his hand was being warmed by that of his general. "I – didn't think of anyone else, sir. I just – you came to mind, and I wanted – "
Kunzite smiled at that, a little sadly, and patted the hand before laying it back on the bed. "Well, I am the most visible officer in the school – and they tell me I'm memorable. Don't let it fret you. You must get well – exams are coming up."
"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir," Zoicite's eyes closed, and he sighed gently.
"Don't mention it," Kunzite said, master of himself again. He rose, pulling on the shirt and coat with practiced ease. "I'll bring you something to eat when I return. Stay in bed."
A soft mumble from the bed was all the answer he got.
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