There were a lot of things that Zoisite did not like, but that didn’t mean that he shied away from them. It was his nature to reach out and grasp the nettle firmly and be damned to the consequences. This brand of thinking had seen him through his childhood up to now. And so he found himself pacing in front of the laboratory, unpleasant memories of the place running through his mind.

Jadeite soon appeared from within the laboratory, pushing the stainless steel double doors open to allow Zoisite to step through. The captain’s eyebrows raised slightly as he took in the other two people in the lab. Those weren’t the normal faceless people that took care of the lab.

“Who?” he asked directly, even though his mind was trying to figure that puzzle out. They looked to be in their late twenties and were dressed simply in plain long sleeved shirts and pants. But the way that carried themselves and the way Jadeite seemed to look at them respectfully alerted him to the possibility that they were either equal or higher in ranking than Jadeite. But they were not nobles. Jadeite didn’t like nobles, and no wonder. He was a commoner and the snooty nobles tended to look down on such people.

“The Generals Zhanter and-”

“Eysten,” the silver haired General answered for himself, casting a faintly apologetic grin at Jadeite for cutting him off so abruptly.

“Good morning, sirs,” Zoisite greeted with the barest inclination of his head and a challenging glint in his eyes, the same one that greeted everyone almost everyday now. It had become almost a habit for him to shoot people down with his stare.

Zhanter, the General with the oh-so-gorgeous mass of thick wavy hair leaned against the nearest of the lab’s walls and regarded him with grave sapphire eyes. Eyes that were not different from Jadeite’s in terms of shade, but were a world apart in terms of depth. Jadeite’s eyes were clear and direct, you could read his entire mind from them, if you knew where to look. Nephrite, on the other hand, was like a stone wall. You’d bang your head bloody trying to read anything from those twin blue pools. One might perhaps breach the first layer before coming up short at another layer. There were levels upon levels upon more levels of depth in them. And he didn’t like that steady gaze.

But he didn’t like the silver haired General’s look even more. It was distastefully direct and it was the kind of look that would make anybody feel woefully inadequate. It was something that he thought he was past already, it evoked feelings that he thought was buried when he swore never to see the bastard Terry. It made him feel like a child again, not the Captain that had a string of successful accomplishments behind him. Unconsciously, he took a half step backwards, fighting to keep his poise. This was going to be torture.

“Tzael, or would you rather I address you as Zoisite?” Eysten asked, his surprisingly gentle deep voice asked. And remarkably sensitive of him too.

Caught by surprise, Zoisite nodded dumbly. Looked like the General knew of his feelings towards his family. The disownment didn’t mean that he couldn’t use his ancestral surname, just that he couldn’t claim anything from them. But the fact that Kunzite had asked...for some strange reason, it made him even more angry. “You will know when we have finished,” Zhanter replied smoothly, pointing towards a capsule with one slender forefinger.

So, they were going to test him. What for? Zoisite puzzled over it in his mind. As far as he knew, no promotion he had heard of required no further tests, let alone a time-spliced test.

Kunzite noted that Zoisite’s hands were dry as he helped him climb into the glass capsule. Better than Jadeite when he underwent this test- the blonde’s hands had been literally dripping sweat enough to collect in a cup. What an interesting person, he found himself thinking- one with a strange mixture of subordinance and defiance. It was as if Zoisite had been torn between to different cultures to judge from the reflections of his soul in his eyes. And he knew full well that his single question had thrown him off balance more than any impossible mission could.

The capsule lid slid into place and the program activated. The trial could last anything from twenty minutes to a few days before Zoisite emerged from it, and Nephrite took the little spare time they had before the program loaded to discuss him and the problems he represented.

“The kid seems quite messed up,” he commented casually, knowing that very little was needed to get Jadeite jabbering away.

“Quite,” the blonde agreed distractedly , fussing over the controls to the occupied capsule. Kunzite guessed that he had developed a soft spot for the kid.

“He doesn’t seem very comfortable with authority. It could get him into trouble later on. The Queen doesn’t necessarily appreciate the kind of people that we do.”

Jadeite finally left the capsule controls alone and gave the conversation his serious attention. “You’ve got a point there Neff. Still, he’s a good guy to have around. He’s independent, confident of himself and doesn’t believe in creating havoc with the rest.”

Nephrite snorted. “Meaning, he’s got a problem trusting other people, an overly big impression of himself and the opposite of others, and he’s anti-social.”

Jadeite chortled heartily. “Quite smart of you,” he laughed. Nephrite smiled and shrugged, pleased with the compliment. “But seriously, he’s super efficient. No one I’ve seen or worked with other than you two have his standard of reliability and efficiency.” The last was said with a tad of awe.

“But he has yet to deal with his inner demons,” Kunzite pointed out quietly. “So far nothing that you’ve assigned to him requires him to confront any personal issues. I believe that if nothing is done about that, he may well endanger himself and all of us in the future.”

Nephrite nodded in agreement. “I caught that wobble in him just now when you posed that question. That’s quite a likely possibility. Do you want to factor it into this test?”

Kunzite shook his head almost immediately. “No. If he passes this test, I’ll deal with it myself. If not, I doubt whether it will matter or not.”

The room didn’t seem any different. Zoisite wondered if anything was wrong with the programming. Being naturally impatient, he waited a few minutes more then tapped on the glass lid to ask them to let him out.

“What happened?” he asked, swinging a leg over the capsule and jumping lightly to the ground.

“Damn thing won’t work,” Jadeite muttered a few curses and kicked the machine in frustration. “Where’re the technicians when you want them?”

Kunzite crossed over to where the red-faced blonde was maligning the machine and laid a hand on his shoulder. “Forget about it if you can’t work it, just get somebody to look into it later.”

“All right,” Jadeite replied reluctantly.

Zoisite stood idly at the side, watching the two Generals putter around the vast array of buttons and levers for a few more minutes, and noticed Nephrite’s gaze still on him.

“What are you staring at?” he asked, hackles up and forgetting his manners for the moment.

The mahogany haired General frowned, eyebrows drawing together and replied in a rather tense voice, “there is something wrong.” He looked up at the silver haired man, catching his attention. “Eysten, there are intruders in here.”

No sooner had he finished his sentence, the room erupted into chaos. For the first time in his relatively short life, Zoisite saw what the enemies looked like. Not the petty enemies here plotting to take over the throne, but the enemies plotting to take over their entire galactic system.

“What in hell?” Zoisite spat out as he leapt out of the way of two laser beams.

“You’re on your own kid,” Jadeite called out, busy orchestrating his own set of pyrotechnics.

“Wait a moment, how did you do that? What’s going on?”

“Battle,” came the curt reply from Nephrite. “Watch where you’re treading or you’ll be dead faster than a flash.”

“Yeah, thanks,” the Captain replied sarcastically, ducking out of the way again. He watched the scene in front of him, observing with detached interest the fireballs and energy bolts that were being traded to and fro. It was fairly obvious to anyone that why the Generals were Generals and not mere lowly mortals like himself. They had magic, damnit! And since this was their fight, let them fight the monsters. He’d just stay out of the way. With an athletic leap and the help of a few taller machines, he was on the rafters and safe for the moment.

“That’s because they have a greater sense of loyalty,” Nephrite countered, twirling a lock of hair in what seemed to be a long ingrained habit.

“And no sense of self-preservation,” Kunzite observed with finality. “Zoisite’s just doing what he deems fit. Since he doesn’t possess what we have, he might as well stay out the way and not block us or get fried himself. The next hurdle is coming up soon.”

The green line on the screen wavered and jumped unsteadily then, forcing the discussion to an abrupt halt as they paid their full attention to what was happening in Zoisite’s mind.

“Did you see that?” Jadeite asked, brows creased in puzzlement.

“Wait for the print to come out,” Nephrite advised, eyes still fixed on the screen, mapping the various lines in his mind with practiced ease.

“I’ve never seen anyone move this fast,” Jadeite murmured, circling out one portion of the printout with his finger. “Just look at it! It’s a bloody blur spot here!”

“Jadeite, do you want to miss the rest of it?” came the amused voice to his left.

Jadeite quickly scrambled back to his position beside beside Nephrite.

Zoisite thought he heard General Eysten compliment him but he couldn’t be sure because he found General Zhanter blocking his view.

“Where were you during the fight?” the General growled out, hands held out in front of him in a very threatening way.

“What do you mean, sir?” Zoisite asked warily. “I was over at the right side of the room where those dead monsters are,” he elaborated, waving a hand at the said place, but to his surprise, the part of the room there was empty, clean of all debris or carcasses.

“You must be an informant,” the General accused, sapphire eyes flashing with rage. The other two Generals were nowhere to be seen.

Zoisite drew himself up to his full height, which was regrettably less than Nephrite’s. “I am not one,” he stated clearly, coldly. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“Don’t try to disseminate. How else could the youma get in here?”

Zoisite snorted and rolled his eyes. “You Generals were here before me, would I know? What do you think I carry in my pocket anyway? A flea market?”

“You overstep your boundaries,” Nephrite grinded out furiously. Zoisite caught the twitch in his wrist and leapt clear of the blast that followed in its wake.

“Slaughtering innocents now?” Zoisite mocked, feeling strangely exhilarated as he ducked and vaulted out of the way of the increasingly powerful bolts. But the inevitable soon came and Zoisite found himself cornered.

“You’re a piece of shit,” Nephrite sneered, raising his hands for the last blast that would obliterate the smaller man from the face of the universe. Zoisite’s eyes widened in shock before they narrowed dangerously.

“Terry,” he hissed out under his breath, seeing in the General’s place his old childhood adversary. “And I thought I was rid of you.” The sheer amount of venom in his voice made the imagined man step back one step in surprise and Zoisite grinned tightly. His uniform was smoking in places and torn in others, courtesy of a few bolts he was too slow or too taxed to dodge, and hot blood was dripping down his right arm where he’d tried to block a shot to his heart. A jagged slash spanning his entire left cheek combined with blazing emerald eyes gave a demonic cast to his features. It was just like the old days, but Zoisite wasn’t about to slink away anymore. He’d trust his abilities, thank you very much.

“See you in hell,” he spat and slammed his fist home into his most hated enemy’s face.

“Ouch!” Nephrite winced in shared sympathy as he watched the blue line on the screen spike high into the stress zones and disintegrate completely. As if to mollify him, the green line too was dangerously into the stress zone. “Wonderful idea, Kunzite. Next time, you choose this way to die, okay? Don’t destroy my image.”

The tallest General ignored the sardonic comment. “He’s tapped into his reserviors successfully.”

“So he’ll become a General?” Jadeite breathed out hopefully.

“Looks that way,” Nephrite agreed, though he was still grousing under his breath about Zoisite’s violent initiation to General-status.

“Yatta!” the blonde shouted out esthetically! “My candidate got through!”

Nephrite snorted. “What kind of training did you put him through anyway? He’s less of a soldier than an assassin. Or an acrobat.”

Jadeite looked offended. With one hand braced on his hip and the other smoothing out the tangles in his short hair, he began to educate Nephrite. “Which wing do you think I run anyway? Half my men are scouts, the rest are either terrorists or specialists. Thought you ought to know that by now. And besi-”

Nephrite clamped one hand over his mouth to stop the blonde’s ranting. From past experience, this was the only way to shut him up once he started.

“Who’s Terry?” he asked, trying to change the subject. Jadeite wriggled out from under his arm and shrugged, shaking his head.

Kunzite sighed. “Probably one of his childhood demons.”

Nephrite clucked his tongue chillingly. “Told you to let me factor that into the program while we still could. But no, you wanted to do it by yourself.”

The tall General ran a hand through his hair, messing up the neat silvery mass and sighed.

Now what? Zoisite wondered as the laboratory disappeared completely around him, leaving him floating in darkness. So this was the program after all. Quite different from the others that he’d been through, a part of him noted, as the rest of him tried to make sense of his surroundings.

“Not bad for a first timer,” the voice interrupted him suddenly, making Zoisite whirl around in wary surprise. The figure of Kunzite slowly appeared, first as diffused rays of light, then coalescing into the normal human figure.

“What do you mean? That wasn’t Nephrite was it?”

Kunzite chuckled. “I doubt you could beat Jadeite let alone Nephrite if he was indeed himself. No. That was just a simulacrum, don’t worry about it, but I must say you overkilled a little back there.”

Zoisite was confused. “What do you mean? All I did was punch his nose...”

Kunzite waved his hand. “Actually, you blasted him with your magic.”

The Captain laughed out loud instantly. “Magic, that’s a good jest sir, but I’m afraid you are severely mistake. My family line just so happens to be well known for it’s lack of magical powers. Yet another trait which they are inordinately proud of.”

“But why this skepticism over the magic in you?”

Zoisite rolled his eyes and leaned forward. “Because it has never manifested itself. And nobody has ever mentioned anything about it to me, not even General Yvskandes, and we all know how much he likes to talk.”

“Nevertheless, you’ll have to submit yourself to training that newly unlocked talent in you.”

Zoisite scowled. “As if I didn’t have enough things marking me out from the rest,” he grumbled under his breath. “I accept training,” he said aloud, voice drained of any emotion. Likewise, the programmed Kunzite replied in that same tone. “So be it.”

"Ever noticed any longing in Zoisite to fit in with the rest of the people?" Kunzite mused aloud.

Jadeite looked thoughtfully at the unconscious soon-to-be General. "If he does feel that way, he's extremely careful not to show it when people are around. Most of the time I get reports of him half scaring another person to death with his ice-glares."He paused for a moment. "It didn't occur to me at all that Zoisite wants to be like all the others his age until you brought it up. I don't think he would have opted for training if that were the case."

Nephrite sighed. "Never attempt to figure out the human psyche. It's the most complicated thing ever."

“What is the point of all these exercises?” Zoisite yelled out, irritated beyond his mortal limits. “Why get me to build bigger and bigger ice towers?” “Stop challenging yourself, Zoisite,” he admonished.

“What do you mean? Who’s the one challenging me to come up with bigger ice sculptures all the time?” the irate blonde demanded.

“I instructed you to come up with something better, not bigger. Do not confuse quality with quantity,” the taller General qualified. “Have faith in yourself. Do not stick with the mindset that you have to prove to others that you can accomplish something. Believe in it.”

Zoisite scowled as the other man disappeared. “Great, now I’m stuck in a bloody philosophy course. He kicked at the air angrily. “Yadda, yadda, yadda. It’s just a bloody shitload of talk. Challenging myself! How the hell do you improve if you don’t challenge yourself?”

The half finished ice tower stared at him impassionately. It was melting at the edges already, a silent mockery of all his efforts. All the anger in Zoisite bled out of him suddenly, leaving him limp and drained of energy. He sat on the floor, thinking of nothing in particular. At that moment, the image of the old sakura tree he sat under every day of spring when he was in school came unbidden to his mind. He missed the tree, missed the quiet moments spent appreciating the little pale blossoms. It had always been a bastion of strength for him then...why not now too?

“It shouldn’t be a problem since I remember it so well...”

Jadeite yawned, one hand going to cover his mouth, the other holding a mug of coffee. “Still going strong, huh?” he asked Zoisite’s reponseless body. “Hope you’re having fun,” he murmured, taking a long pull from the mug. It was extra strong, just the way he liked it. “Cool, I’m going on a caffeine high.”~*~

“Impressive,” Kunzite admitted. “When you’re not angry or impatient, you seem to perform very well.”

Zoisite managed a nonchalant nod though he was beaming inside. The sakura tree between them looked identical to the one he remembered, down to every single last delicate detail. How he loved the old tree! Dimly, he was aware of Kunzite speaking to him.

“Do you see now Zoisite?” the silver haired man asked patiently. “This is what you are capable of producing if you know you can do it. Extend that belief to everything else and you will soon be invincible in your field of specialization.”

Zoisite thought he understood what Kunzite meant.

“Damnit! That hurts!” Zoisite yelped out, tempted to cradle his head in his hands but knowing that the action wouldn’t do anything to alleviate the pain. “What was that for?”

“I think you know,” Nephrite replied, folding his arms across his chest. “Exactly what have I been advising you to do all along?”

Zoisite scowled but accepted the mild rebuke. With an aching head, that wasn’t a very easy task. “Point noted.”

Nephrite flipped a thick mahagony lock over his shoulder and spread his hands. “So, shall we begin again? This time, try to remember that you are supposed to be using your mind alone? So no more trying to rip my uniform to shreds with your ice crystals.”

Zoisite turned a very slight shade of red. He hadn’t realised that he had been throwing ice daggers. Mind magic could be so tricky at times...reality just wasn’t what it seemed nowadays.

“Oh yes, I forgot one more thing,” Nephrite spoke up. Zoisite raised an eyebrow and made use of the impromptu break to retie his hair into a neater tail at the base of his neck.

“Don’t resort to dirty tactics by making me sneeze,” the older General admonished, shaking one finger at the blonde, the twinkle in his eyes reminding Zoisite of Jadeite.

Zoisite merely shrugged and gave him a purely devilish smile. “You don’t like sakura?” he asked innocently enough, tossing his hands up in the air and conjuring a cloud of the pretty pale blossoms. Innocent they were most assuredly NOT, since their edges were so sharp they could slice one to the bone if one was not careful.

Nephrite swore under his breath and declared war on his student. By dousing him with sharp pointy stars. Fight fire with fire...

The capsule sent separate beeped messages to announce that it was coming to the end of the time-spliced cycle. All three Generals who were elsewhere met up together in the laboratory. The lid to the capsule slid backwards and all of them waited expectantly, peering over to take a closer look. They found themselves staring abruptly into bright green eyes. Zoisite blinked once, trying to orient himself, then made an effort to get up from the capsule. His knees buckled, no thanks to having spent the last five days comatose in bed.

“Congratulations,” Jadeite beamed as he reached a hand out to Zoisite, a very befuddled and exhausted Zoisite.

“What for?” he asked, feeling another wave of disorientation hit him as he stared down at the slender body that greeted him. At this rate, he was going to be stuck in an eighteen year old body for eternity. This latest test had really made him question how old Jadeite and the rest were. If he was twenty-seven in mind, wouldn’t that make Jadeite at least thirty-something and the rest forty-something.

“I’m actually eighty-something,” Kunzite said dryly, picking up the thoughts that Zoisite was radiating out of his half-lowered shields. The youngest General hastily slammed them up, more out of reflex and the hundreds of drills by Nephrite, than an attempt to push Kunzite away. “But when you hold it up against our few hundred years livespan, it really isn’t much,” he finished.

“Feeling dizzy, huh?” Nephrite greeted sagely, reaching over to clasp Zoisite around the shoulders. “Welcome to the family.”

“Un?” Zoisite replied, not really understanding what was going on around him. He wanted to sleep damnit! But nevertheless tried to force his mind to function properly. “What family? I don’t have one-” he managed to grate out and promptly passed out, multi-hued head flopping backwards and crashing onto the floor before Nephrite managed to break his descent.

“So I guess that’s it for today,” the mahogany haired General quipped, trying to pull Zoisite up. Kunzite chuckled and reached for the slender body.

“I’ll take him to his rooms. Nephrite, we’ve got an inspection on in the afternoon, get ready for it. Jadeite, you too. Zoisite’s swearing in ceremony will be held next week at the palace. See to the preparations, Nephrite.”

Jadeite rolled his eyes. “Another trip to the land of the snotty,” he commented, holding the door open for Kunzite.

The eldest General smiled. “Always a good lesson in patience.”

“Why is the ceremony being held at the palace? I thought all ceremonies for the army was held here! It only makes sense!” Zoisite argued, arms crossed over his chest and a belligerent expression on his face. He was spoiling for a fight, he knew that and Jadeite knew that too.

“Control your temper, Zoi-kun!” Jadeite half-pleaded and half-commanded. “Swearing in for Generals have always been conducted at the palace. It’s a time worn tradition which you are not going to get out of, no matter how much you rant or rave.” He studied Zoisite’s angry, tense body and sighed. “Hey, I hate going there just as much as you do...maybe even more that you do,” he pointed out.

Zoisite exhaled the breath, one that he didn’t know he had been holding, rather noisily. “You have a point there,” he allowed. “Tradition be damned!” he groused under his breath.

Jadeite grinned. “I agree whole heartedly with that in this case. But the ceremony’s pretty grand with lots and lots of trappings. All you have to do is ignore the people on either side of you. It’s highly likely that they’re not paying any attention to you anyway.”

Zoisite dragged one hand through his hair, raking it into disarray. “That’s not the point.” It was a curt statement, full of unvented frustration. Jadeite contemplated for a moment and then understanding dawned upon him.

“Are you...afraid of meeting the Tzael family there?”

The elder blonde was rewarded by a subtle change in the silence that surrounded them. The air was thick with Zoisite’s anger, thick enough to cut, but Jadeite ignored it, knowing that it wasn’t directed at him. Or so he hoped.

“No,” came the answer after what seemed like eternity, but in reality was only a few tense seconds. “Afraid’s not the word to describe what I’m feeling.”

Jadeite had to agree with that. It wouldn’t be the word he would have chosen as description if Zoisite had not been the person he was talking to. He read the nuances in Zoisite’s voice very clearly, no matter that the young General tried to make his voice as emotionless as possible. This wasn’t the first time he’d heard Zoisite’s bitterness over the rejection of his family. The wound cut deeper than even Zoisite was consciously aware.

“You think he might disrupt the ceremony?” Nephrite inquired, sapphire eyes hooded and voice soft. He was in one of his meditative moods, something that usually happened when he indulged in his hobby of star gazing. Jadeite nodded and crossed his fingers, hoping that Nephrite wouldn’t speak in riddles. Judging from the way the elder General was regarding the visible constellations, he wasn't going to be fortunate tonight.

“No, I do not think that would happen. Zoisite is too disciplined for that, no matter that he can be hot-headed and impulsive at times. He knows what’s best for him, and he’s still sore from what happened to him. I don’t think that wound’s ever been given a chance to heal, has it?”

Jadeite gripped the railing so hard his knuckles showed up white and strained against his skin. “You’re right. But I don’t think I would want to bring it up to him. The last time I did, he looked fit to murder. Not good for our general healths, no pun intended.”

Nephrite glanced at his companion for this night and smiled, a gentle smile that suited his fine features perfectly, and something which he did very rarely. “Zoi-kun’s very lucky that you care for him so much.” Before Jadeite could do anything more than splutter in embarrassment and try to stammer out a rejection, Nephrite continued. “I suggest you take care of your own spirits on the day itself. If you get into another fight with one of those foppish popinjays, I might not be able to get your ass out of the fire. Even Kunzite might have a problem against some prominent noble thundering out threats of divine retribution.”

Jadeite grinned at the image that rose in his mind featuring a cast of one chibi Kunzite as David and a soft, fat noble as the towering Goliath. “Sure he can. He’s Kunzite.”

“What, meaning he’s omnipotent?” Nephrite asked dryly, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards in wry amusement.

“No one’s omnipotent?” Jadeite laughed and proceeded to share his image with the other General. Nephrite couldn’t stop laughing after that.

“I think you’ve just set the record for laughing,” Jadeite chuckled as he tried to prevent a very undignified looking red-faced Nephrite from choking to death from the lack of oxygen. In response, the mahogany haired man continued wheezing away, clutching his ribs and turning even redder in the face.

Zoisite dangled his feet idly over the edge of his bed, trying to think of nothing in particular. It turned out to be impossible. With his swearing-in ceremony being held tomorrow, he was most disgruntled to find himself confronted with a belly-ache. The door rapped smartly just as he was indulging in his own private fit.

Kunzite thought he heard a few choice expletives before he knocked, expletives which did not stop even after he knocked. The door was wrenched open violently and the silver haired General found himself face to face with a foul-tempered Zoisite.

“Eysten,” the blonde greeted with ill-concealed surprise.

“Kunzite," the General corrected. "May I enter?” Kunzite asked, keeping amusement from his voice as Zoisite belatedly realized his poor hospitality and invited the elder man in.

“So, are you prepared for tomorrow?” he asked, settling comfortably in one of the plush chairs that Zoisite had received as a customary gift from the rest of the army. Zoisite on the other hand was a study of contrasts, perching uncomfortably on another chair, the urge to chase Kunzite away warring obviously with the need to remain polite. His lovely hair was mused, though he probably didn’t notice it.

“There’s nothing to prepare for,” Zoisite replied with a forced little laugh. “All I have to do is turn up.”

“The Tzael family will be present tomorrow, they have already indicated their acceptance of the Queen’s invitation.” Kunzite observed Zoisite very closely to see how he would respond to the news. Zoisite gave him a tight-lipped smile for his pains.

“That’s none of my concern.”

Kunzite shook his head. “I see. In that case, report to the palace tomorrow at eight. I think the Master of Ceremony would like to go through the routine with you at least once. Good night.”

“Fine, whatever,” was Zoisite’s parting comment as he saw Kunzite to the door. His way of saying ‘goodnight’.

It was a grand affair indeed, but then again, most palace functions were. The nobles all partied as if there were no tomorrow, not giving a hoot for expenditure. One might think that the royal treasury planted several money trees at the rate it threw cash away.

Zoisite fought the urge to fidget as he waited to be announced and receive his badge of honour so that he could slip away silently. The only saving grace was that his dress uniform was comfortable, made of the finest, softest cloth that the tailors could find, not the stiff, starchy nightmare that lower ranking officers complained about regularly. He was standing slightly to the left of Nephrite and partially obscured from the full court by Jadeite so he was free to let his eyes wander around without being conspicuous.

“General Tzael Zoisite Kohri,” the master of ceremony intoned out solemnly, his ceremonial staff hitting the floor three times in ritual summoning. Though the other three Generals didn’t change their facial expressions, Zoisite could feel their approval, and for once he could read Nephrite’s eyes, the sapphire blue eyes glowing warmly. Perhaps the day wasn’t so bad after all.

Queen Serenity smiled benignly at him and pinned the golden star onto his uniform, just above the left breast. A misleading expression for one infamous throughout the galaxy for her iron fist rule and intolerance of potential political rivals. She didn’t say anything, not that Zoisite was expecting her to. As he stepped to the side, he inevitably looked into the crowd of nobles and one head caught his eye even as he continued scanning through the entire room. A little unsettled, he looked back, but no longer found the person who had attracted his attention.

“Hey, you alright? You look paler than normal,” Jadeite whispered, doing a credible imitation of a ventriloquist. Zoisite gave him a marginal shake of his head.

“Nothing’s wrong,” he whispered back, falling into auto mode, which was what he did when he didn’t want to fall asleep but the enviroment was simply too boring. He would make the appropriate responses if anything happened, but other than that, he was simply spacing out.

“That’s Zoisite?” Lord Cyphllype asked, not quite managing to disguise the incredulity or disapproval in his voice. The aide at his side nodded once.

“I tell him to go for a position in court and he goes off and joins the army. I knew they were a thick headed bunch of fools,” he murmured viciously. “Our country will fall if the army continues to be led by a couple of pansy boys.”

Terry nodded again in agreement with his lord. Indeed, my lord, he thought to himself, already planning of what he would do when he caught up with that blonde weakling.

Jadeite nudged Nephrite oh-so-slightly, and was rewarded by the sidelong look that his auburn haired colleague shot him. “Look at the lad with the dark shoulder-length hair and brown eyes next to the older man in maroon and grey.”

“What about?” Nephrite whispered, locking onto the two figures instantly. “Don’t tell me, I know. They’re staring at Zoisite.”

“That’s Lord Cyphllype Istal Tzael,” Jadeite whispered back. “Don’t know who the other is.”

Nephrite pondered about it for a moment. “He bears watching. My guess is that he knows Zoisite, or he wouldn’t be staring at him like a wolf eyeing a lamb.”

Jadeite stifled a laugh and switched to mindspeech to prevent himself from being unduly embarrassed. *Our Zoisite a lamb? When Zoisite stops spacing out and notices him, my guess is that he’ll be the lamb and Zoisite will be our wolf. Dare to bet with me on that?*

Nephrite shook his head bemusedly. *No thank you,* he replied, knowing that Jadeite was infamous for being a shrewd gambler.

Zoisite breathed a silent thank you to no one in particular. At long last the ceremony was over. If it was Zoisite’s choice, a five minute presentation would have sufficed. Not waiting for Jadeite and not bothering to mingle around like Nephrite or Kunzite as manners dictated, he was off like an arrow for the army’s quarters. Not that he got very far anyway.

Jadeite craned his head this way and that and tried discern one bronze, golden and sun-streaked blonde head from the crowd of carefully coiffed heads of ladies and the varying styles and lengths of the men. It proved to be somewhat of an impossible task, what with everybody crowding together as if the hall was suddenly half its size.

*Nephrite! Kunzite! Zoisite’s disappeared,* Jadeite sent out to both Generals. Nephrite didn’t answer, caught up in a charming conversation with a petite girl with short red curls. On the other hand, Kunzite, who was engaged in discussion with the Queen’s financial adviser, told him to go keep an eye on the youngest blonde.

Not that Jadeite minded the baby sitting duty. It was much more preferable than being sandwiched in a room filled with snotty people who looked down their sharp aquiline noses at him. He was very sensitive over his common birth, even more so than the others suspected. And he was the only commoner among the Generals. Nephrite and Kunzite had both renounced their noble birth to join the army, as did Zoisite, albeit in a less messy way.

Zoisite turned round a blind corner and collided into a tall person, maybe around Kunzite’s height. Zoisite moved backwards one precise step and looked up, meaning to apologize. Any words he wanted to say died on his tongue and his eyes narrowed dangerously.

“Well now, how are you doing, Zoisite, or should I refer to you as General now?” Terry asked genially enough, though he had a sneer Zoisite had not seen or missed for two years on his face.

“Get the hell out of my sight,” Zoisite gritted out, barely holding his anger in check. He wanted to punch the living daylights out of this bastard how had caused him so much misery, just as he had in the alternate timeline, but managed to refrain from doing so.

“Your manners have not improved, I see.” Terry glanced at his well-manicured fingernails. “You know, there were always rumours floating around in school,” he continued in a casual conversational tone. “I wonder now if there’s actually an inkling of truth in them. Tell me,” he said, bending down and forward so that he could lock eyes with Zoisite, “did you sleep your way to the top, or how would you be able to attain this rank so fast?”

Zoisite growled, clenching his hands so hard his fingers punched bloody half moons in his palms. “Do not look for trouble where there is none,” he warned softly, and Terry misinterpreted it for cowardice.

“So you did sleep your way to the top,” he laughed, and the next moment, he was trying to hitch a painful breath as Zoisite exerted pressure on the arm he had caught and twisted upwards.

“Zoisite, let him go.”

The emerald eyed General knew without looking that Jadeite was beside him. He released Terry, but not before he gave his arm a vicious twist. The noble nearly teared at the unexpected pain that shot up his arm and made it numb and tingly all at the same time.

“That’s your lover?” he sneered out, stumbling a few quick steps backwards just in case.

Jadeite flashed him a tight grin. “Unfortunately, I’ve not had the privilege. Our General Tzael is a man of exceedingly good taste. You won’t even be considered, seeing that you're such a poor jealous sod.”

Terry flushed red, then turned deep purple at the insinuation. “Why you-”

Zoisite yawned in his face, interrupting him. “See you around,” he commented breezily and turned on his heel, Jadeite at his side with an irritating half smile, the same one that had irked Zoisite before when he first met the General.

Terry stayed where he was for a few seconds, trying to shake off the feelings of fear he had in his mind. Maybe there were some truths in the rumours going around of the kind of training that the army put their Generals through, or how else could weak, pathetic Zoisite fight back against him? The very idea of a strong Zoisite seemed ridiculous to his mind anyhow. He was too used to the image of the beaten boy crouched at his feet.

Lord Cyphllype nodded in response to Lady Almea’s remark and held up his hand to excuse himself when he noticed his aide back at his side.

“What happened?”

Terry sketched a small bow and frowned. “Zoisite’s gotten stronger. I’m beginning to think that perhaps he was picked on merit rather than...” he trailed off, seeing that the older man had picked up on what he wanted to say.

“Nonsense!” the old man thundered. “That kid will never amount to anything, no matter what big title they place on him. What need have they for a fop like him when Queen Serenity is on the throne.”

Terry made a noncommittal noise, anything not to get in the old man’s bad books. But he was galvanised into saying something at the Lord’s next few words.

“Go take some men and teach him a lesson.”

“W-what? I can’t do that! H-he’s a bloody General!” the shocked young man spluttered.

“I am his father!” Lord Cyphllype thundered ominously. “I can punish him whenever I want.”

Terry swallowed hard. “Technically, lord, you’re no longer his father. You disowned him a year ago. And you can’t just go around ordering people to beat him up. He’s entitled to his rank privileges.”

“Just as I am entitled to my own privileges as the Queen’s personal adviser!” Terry grimaced mentally but didn’t dare argue further for fear that the old man be angry with him instead. Past experience had thought him that anybody in Lord Cyphllype’s black books suffered without fail. But stay in his good books and a windfall would be bound your way.

"So, who was that young lady you were so obviously enraptured with today?" Jadeite wheedled, poking Nephrite in the ribs to make sure that he had his undivided attention.

"Busybody," Nephrite muttered good-naturedly as Kunzite and Zoisite exchanged knowing smiles. "Her name's Naru. She's the daughter of the newly appointed Chancellor. It's always good to have connections everywhere you go," he commented loftily.

"But not broken hearts," Zoisite observed sardonically. Nephrite glared at him.

"All I did was talk to her for goodness sakes!" The mahogany haired General cast a sour look at Jadeite who promptly batted his eyelids back at him. "What happened to you anyway, Zoisite?"

The young blonde's eyes turned cold and hard instantly. "Nothing."

"Nothing?" Nephrite echoed doubtfully. "Nothing doesn't result in Jad sending a panicky mind message to both of us in the middle of the function."

"Hey!" Jadeite protested half-heartedly. "It wasn't a panicky message!"

"Past acquaintance, alright?!" Zoisite confessed in a huff and clearly indicating that the others were to shift to a different topic of conversation.

Childhood acquaintance?" Kunzite prompted. He received a curt nod as answer. "Don't you think you should do something about it?"

Zoisite snorted rather inelegantly. "What do you want me to do? What can I do?" He produced one white sakura blossom which slowly turned pale pink on his palm. "Sauté him into little pieces? Are we really degenerating to the point of barbarianism?"

Kunzite made eye contact with Jadeite and gave him the slightest of nods.

*Wait a moment, I thought you wanted to do it all by yourself. Why drag me in?* Jadeite wailed.

*Because you're the most likely candidate among the three of us to escape with his head intact if we were to broach the subject to him,* was Kunzite's calm, logical reply. Jadeite scowled mentally at him.

"Zoisite, you seem to have something against him. Since you will be working closely with the Court in the future, don't you think you should at least inform us on what it is so that we can take steps to ensure that no calamity will come out of it? After all, it's already been proven in my case." He flashed Zoisite a lop-sided grin that had only one purpose - to take the brunt of Zoisite's anger off him. It very nearly backfired. As it was, both Nephrite and Kunzite were fully prepared to knock Zoisite unconscious if he exploded at Jadeite.

"I said leave it be!" he snarled, anger and a sick feeling deep in his gut making the situation seem more serious than it should be. "Nothing's going to happen even if I see him." He got up from Nephrite's comfortable couch and left the room before he lost his temper for good.

*Your call,* Nephrite relayed to Kunzite with a mental shrug. *I've no idea where to go from here.*

"Take some men and give him a lesson," Terry snarled out. "What does he think I am? Wonder Boy? He's stark, raving mad! How in the Seven Hells do you take down a General anyway? Going by what I've heard, they even possess magic. Tell me, how do you fight against that? No sir, I don't want my ass roasted this soon." His tirade was directed at his wall, his book shelves, his furniture, his private stock of-

"Hold your horses," he whispered excitedly. "That's it! Send him doctored wine...I'll put it in Lord Cyphllype's name! That way, he can pull his own strings if he gets into danger. Zoisite drunk should put him in a very vulnerable position. Hell, I might just take some men and give him a lesson."

Pacing up to his wine rack, he pulled and rejected several in rapid succession until he hit upon a dark bottle. "XX78...should be vintage enough for him..." he mused, then pulled it out completely and pulled the tasseled rope for a servant.

When the man arrived, Terry gestured carelessly towards the South Wing of the nobles' section of the palace. "Call Sir Tagaran here. Tell him that it's an urgent request from Lord Cyphllype Tzael."

The servant bowed and exited the room.

"How quaint," Jadeite mused as he, Kunzite and Nephrite peered at the bottle on Zoisite's table. Nephrite picked it up in careful fingers and inspected the label.

“From the Lastier vineyard...XX03? Good heavens! This is damn good stuff!"

"You want it? You can have it," Zoisite told him expressionlessly from where he was lounging in his armchair. "I don't drink."

"Meaning you can't hold your liquor?" Jadeite wheedled with a sly grin.

Zoisite glared at him.

Nephrite replaced the wine bottle on Zoisite's desk. "Can't deprive you of such good stuff. Besides, I do have a few of these over at my place."

Kunzite punched Nephrite on the arm. "And you never told me about it?"

The auburn haired general laughed and raised his hands in supplication. "Hey, the next time we win a major battle against those ugly youma, I'll share them with you!" The two elder Generals headed for the door. "See you tomorrow, Zoisite."

Jadeite also rose to leave. "Don't get smashed tonight," he advised with a twinkle in his eyes. "We have yet another mindless inspection tomorrow. And after that's the official annual mingling session with the Court. You'll have plenty of chances to get sloshed then."

Zoisite debated on whether to throw the bottle at Jadeite but decided to keep it as something to be given away should the need arise. The note attached to the bottle had long been incinerated, by yours truly. His father congratulate him on his success? Zoisite scoffed at the idea. That would be the day.

Zoisite drummed slender fingers irritably against the side of the wall as he surveyed the Grand Hall in his dimly lit corner with distaste written all over his face. Barely half an hour into the function and he had already made it very clear that he had no wish to associate with any of the nobles present, nor did he want any admirers (if there were any in the first place) or trouble makers tagging around him. The guys mostly scorned him for his slight build; the girls were more observant and looked for intelligence, but his cold, barbed comments stung them off.

"I'd like to know how you're going to explain this to Kunzite and Nephrite when we next meet up with them," came an amused voice next to him.

"I don't recall this being on my list of favourite ways to waste away time," came the acerbic reply.

Jadeite sighed and ran his fingers through his short blond hair. "At least make an effort to socialize. Our reputation's at stake here. I'm supposed to be the only black sheep around."

"Two's a couple," Zoisite remarked dispassionately. "Look, Jad. I'm in a cranky mood right now and I don't want to spoil yours in addition to mine. So, pardon my being rude but..."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I'll take that as the signal to get lost right now."

And right on cue, Kunzite stepped in to take Jadeite's place, giving the younger General an almost sympathetic smile.

"Anything wrong?" the silver haired man asked quietly, surveying the hall with its milling occupants.

"Other than the fact that I'm a cold bastard?" Zoisite quipped self-deprecatingly. "Nah, I don't think anything's wrong."

"You're depriving the people here of your lovely dry wit." Kunzite raised a hand to forestall Zoisite's comment or protest. "This is not your past, Zoisite. I have only an inkling of what you went through, but understand that you're an independent person now. Don't get fettered by the past. Your acquaintances here have enough brains to leave you alone, and even if you do run into your family, they can't do anything to you."

"You presume a lot of things," Zoisite said dryly. "I'm not hiding in this corner because I'm scared of the people out there or anything. I'm here because I have no wish to mingle with immature boys and girls."

"Don't forget that they do not have the luxury of an extended lifespan like ours. You're twenty-seven already. They're just turning eighteen. What did you expect?"

"Thanks for reminding me of my screwed adolescenthood," the youngest General commented without any real sting. "I'll keep that in mind. I think the Queen's circle of advisers are missing you. You're one of the main attractions anyway. I'm just keeping a low profile for now."

"At least have a taste of the wine circulating around. Nephrite swears he hasn't drunk anything this good lately. I'm rather inclined to agree."

Zoisite flashed him a glimpse of white teeth. "Anything just to keep you off my tail." He slipped away to the side, headed for another pillar, but he did pick up a glass along the way.

Lady Hiode paused in mid word and stared at something just beyond her conversation companion.

"Hiode? What are you looking at?" Lady Cherie asked quizzically, faint lines creasing her brow.

Hiode focussed her eyes back on Cherie. "Excuse me," she said slowly. "I think I've just seen something interesting." She moved off into the crowd of people, trying to locate the bright haired figure that moved so enviously fast in such cramped quarters.

"Zoisite!"

The General caught the hiss and forced himself to turn around slowly.

"Why, Lady Hiode, what a pleasant surprise to see you here," he thrilled with false delight.

"What did you do, you little demon, that you got this rank?" she demanded, scanning him up from head to toe. He was small and slender as ever, and he still didn't top her height.

"Be careful what you are insinuating," Zoisite warned in his cold General mode.

"I think that you should be the one who has to be careful of your speech habits," Hiode retorted.

"Madam, I have no wish to continue this conversation," Zoisite informed her flatly and turned to go, but Hiode raised her voice after him.

"Don't act as if you are superior to us all. I've heard all about you. A good portion of us know how you slept your way to the top!"

Time ground to a standstill as the people around Zoisite stopped whatever they were doing and stared at the both of them. There were hushed whispers all around.

"So, that's the one?"

"Fits the description."

"Positively disgusting!"

"What did you expect from somebody his size and with his kind of face?"

"Slut."

Hiode had a faintly triumphant smile on her face; Zoisite on the other hand could feel the blood draining from his face. Without a word, he spun away and stalked out of the hall.

Jadeite watched him go, lips set in a flat line of worry and anger, but his attention was taken up by a hormone-driven teenage girl who was doing her level best to bore his mind to death.

The humming whine of daggers cutting through the air and the steady thunk they made as they embedded in the targets strewn across the practice arena barely managed to sooth the death song the sirens in his heart were singing. It took all the self control he had not to storm out and slice his step mother into as many pieces as the number of sakura blossoms he could generate with a thought. All the unease and nervousness, yes he finally admitted to himself that he had been nervous, had been replaced by rage and disgust. He hadn't even known that for so long, he'd been craving for acceptance by his family...acceptance that would never be his, just because of a freak gene that gave him blonde hair and green eyes.

"I don’t bloody need anybody’s acknowledgement!" he raged to dumb walls. "I don't," he repeated, whispered it out dully.

What a fool he had been, to think that he could gain respect and recognition for himself just by getting a high rank. As always, it was his outward appearance that drew snide comments and nasty rumours like a magnet. Blindly, he whirled to slam his fist in the wall, hearing a sharp crack as the plaster beneath it gave way. A moment later, agonized nerves sent an exquisite message of pain to his brain. He closed his eyes, feeling more than just an idiot.

"That can't have felt very good," a soft voice chided.

"Oh, it's you," Zoisite muttered tonelessly, not bothering to look to the side as Kunzite took the injured hand into his own. He curled his own long fingers around Zoisite's and jerked them sharply back into position. The youngest General let out a soft hiss but other than that gave no other indication of pain.

"Thanks," he finally said, flexing his fingers freely as the healing factors injected in his blood cleared out the remnants of his injury but still not looking at Kunzite.

"Want to talk?"

"There's nothing I've to say. Wherever I go, I'll just be judged by this face of mine, irregardless of what I do. I'm used to it," Zoisite spat out bitterly. An ice crystal went sailing past Kunzite's ear and buried itself in the wall wide to the left of the remaining standing target.

"Being used to it doesn't mean you can't change it," Kunzite remarked, catching hold of Zoisite's hand and forcing him to release the ice dagger he had. With an efficient sweep of his hand, the dagger sent the target crashing into the ground.

"Kunzite, I'm in no mood for this. I don't believe the social gathering has ended yet. Aren't you worried that rumours will start perpetuating about you? I don't wish to be the one to spoil your reputation." Zoisite had been trying for a harsh, curt tone, but the slight tremors in them betrayed him better than if he had just screamed it out.

Kunzite laughed softly. "You don't play the cold bastard very well. I've concluded whatever business I had with the ministers. There's no reason why I should stay on there, not when I've got better places to be."

"Here?" Zoisite asked unbelievingly. "Don't jest with me. You'd rather come and risk being a pin cushion stuck full of ice? I know better than anybody else that I'm lousy company even when I'm in a good mood to start with. Now? You'd might as well talk to a troll. They'd be sweeter company."

"Clichéd as this might sound, I don't judge a book by its cover." The silver haired man studied his chosen companion for the evening. "You don't believe me?"

Zoisite sighed. "Truthfully, why are you here?" he asked, sounding wearied beyond his years.

"Because Zoisite, I think you're a intelligent, independent person who also has fears and ghosts just like anybody else, irregardless of what image you've chosen to project. And I also think that you shouldn't let old wounds fester."

"I hate people who try to act like shrinks," Zoisite retorted, but without conviction. "Okay, doctor, what do you want to know?"

"Everything."

"You won't like what you see," Zoisite warned sullenly, but something compelled him not to back down from Kunzite’s offer.

Kunzite gave him an encouraging smile. "Let me be the judge of that, hmm?"

"Where's Zoisite?" Nephrite asked as he joined a morose-looking Jadeite slouched against a wall nursing a glass of white wine.

"Probably in the practice arena." He saluted the taller man with his glass. "Isn't this just lovely? The Court's here but not all the Generals are."

"Why aren't you there as well?"

Jadeite frowned. "Cos' Kunzite's there."

The auburn haired man looked at his grumpy peer. "Jealous, are you?" he asked with a knowing smile.

Jadeite spluttered out an affronted denial.

"Come on now, don't tell me you're going to be dejected for the rest of the night?"

"Who's to stop me?" Jadeite asked, sounding uncharacteristically belligerent.

Nephrite flashed him a brilliant smile. "Me. I'm sacrificing my flirting time for you so don't waste it."

"Waste it huh?" Jadeite countered with a grin of his own. "That's something new. And since when have I ever wasted your time?"

Nephrite laughed softly. "Ever since I met you."

Jadeite surreptitiously slipped his hand into Nephrite's as they stole out of the hall, smiling when he felt the pressure returned on his fingers. "What would I do without you?" he wondered softly, laughingly.

"Check out the other items on the menu," Nephrite replied with a crooked grin.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" Kunzite asked.

Zoisite inclined his head to one side and smiled faintly. "No, I guess not. I...just dislike being reminded by the past. But everything seems to parallel it anyway."

"You think so because you allow yourself to be tied down by the people you dislike. Even now, you needlessly expend energy being angry with them for the way you chose to shape your future. Isn't this the path in life that you chose?"

"Yeah, just to spite my family members. I'm the black sheep, remember?"

"But you like it here, don't you?"

Zoisite considered for a while. "Oh, I used to hate it back when I was just a kitchen help and couldn't defend myself. Now? I'm just beginning to enjoy your com-" he stopped abruptly.

"My what?" Kunzite asked with a mysterious smile hovering on his face.

"Nothing."

"Nothing doesn't make you turn red like that," Kunzite pointed out, tossing one lock of silver hair over his shoulders.

"My face is red? Strange...Must have been the wine I drank just now," Zoisite lied and mentally crossed his fingers.

"Hmm..." And thankfully, Kunzite didn't press further like he was usually wont to do. "Zoisite, have you ever taken a look at yourself in the mirror?"

Zoisite wrinkled his brows. "Of course I have, what are you talking about?"

"I mean a proper look. Have you ever considered the effect you have on people?"

"The effect?" he gave a short burst of laughter. "I get beaten up for the way I look. Every time a bruise begins to fade on my face, I'd get another one. I think the nurses gave up on me permanently. Not that I'm surprised."

Kunzite made a disapproving sound. "There you go again. That self-deprecating thing. I think if people were to see you like that, they'd be hard pressed to reconcile you with your projected image."

The blonde raised a skeptical eyebrow. "How so?" "I hate people who flatter me. It's sounds so false."

The eldest General sighed. "I'd be insulted if I thought you knew what you were talking about. Zoisite, why must every good comment that people make about you be false?"

"That's because I haven't heard a positive comment from anybody else except you Generals, noticeably Jadeite, and Jadeite's probably blind."

"Well, Zoisite, have you paused to consider that most people are jealous of your breathtaking looks and astounding intelligence? Why do people always spread rumours about you? It's not because of your deviation from family heritage but your accomplishments."

Zoisite looked more curious than skeptical now, but he was still denying the truth. "You must be kidding. Stop trying to make me feel better, okay? Even now, I can't do anything that makes my family proud of me. What have I got for people to be jealous about? I'm not at all masculine-"

"None of that is your fault. Your family members, especially your father, are control freaks." Kunzite interrupted flatly. "And are probably too stubborn to admit that you've done more than your share to glorify your family line. Second point, you may not be masculine, blame it on recessive genes, but you are beautiful-"

"I'm not quite sure if I'm supposed to be proud of that," Zoisite commented wryly, but a smile was fighting to make itself seen on the edges of his lips.

"You were always the top student, Zoisite, doesn't that tell you anything? And even here in the army, your achievements are incredible. You've been given seven missions in the space of two months, and always, there was no furor raised over them. Your efficiency and skill was, is, what got you promoted so fast. If you want to know, it took me two years and Nephrite and Jadeite both three years to get from recruit to General. And we were already considered prodigious by the former Generals. The fact that you managed to do so in the space of one year speaks volumes about you."

"Oh," was all that Zoisite managed. Somebody thought he was actually good? His brain was struggling to understand that.

"Personally, I appreciate you very much," Kunzite said quietly, and Zoisite glanced at him in surprise.

"You appreciate me? Me? The cold, skeptical, anti-social, acidic bastard?"

Kunzite's steady gaze made Zoisite look everywhere except the General. He no longer found the look as abhorrent as he did the first time he met the eldest General in the laboratories. It made him feel uncomfortable and lacking in the beginning, but he didn't mind it now. Not when he knew the General was capable of being this understanding. It was almost as if Kunzite was trying to see past his barriers into his soul. A warm, fuzzy feeling welled up in his heart, and before he knew it, he was fighting to prevent a silly grin from conquering his face.

"That's merely a facade, a wall you built to prevent yourself from getting hurt. But Zoisite, you ended up getting hurt even more because you don't work that way. You're the kind of person who thrives on affection and attention. The former you didn't get, the latter you got the wrong kind. I'm not surprised you blocked everybody out. Your childhood was a very troubled one. And now? You're lonely and bitter. You don't always have to hide your vulnerabilities from people, do you understand? Try opening up a little, Zoisite. I think you might just like the consequences."

Zoisite was pale as the white wall their backs were leaning against, and he bolted. Just ran away from the General who knew too much about the way his world operated. Along the path his mad rush took him, he thought he bumped into Nephrite and Jadeite. They said something, but he wasn't listening, and he didn't stop running until he was safe in his room with the door locked. Then did he allow himself to sag to the floor. His mind was awhirl in confusion. How could Kunzite know him better that he did himself? There the General was, merrily sprouting out things that he had always rejected himself. Zoisite was aware that he was shaking so hard he didn't trust himself to stand for fear that he would collapse to the ground.

"Hey Zoisite, are you all right?" Jadeite called out, his voice muffled by the thick door.

Zoisite's first attempt to assemble sound into speech yielded no results. The second try was a little better. "I'm fine Jad. Just tired."

He heard footsteps away from his door and released the breath he didn't know he had been holding. This called for something strong, and Zoisite's eyes went to the bottle still standing on his table. A large block of ice chilled it admirably and Zoisite drew a glass from his cupboard.

He supposed he really didn't have the stomach for liquor, for he could feel his world doing fuzzy after a mere glass, and he couldn't quite feel his legs anymore. Granted that the glass wasn't a wine glass but almost a mug, but he was sure Nephrite could have knocked it down without any immediate effects.

"You want me to open up? That's as difficult as getting my father to accept me," he slurred, hefting the bottle up. He poured some more into his glass and brought it to his nose. After that brief sojourn into the herbalist's store, his sense of smell had gotten better, not to mention enhanced by the kingdom scientists, and he caught a whiff of something which didn't fit in with the wine's bouquet. He ought to be able to place it...