Malachite watched in stifled pain as Zoisite writhed in his arms, the green eyes of whom he loved so much closing with the sleep of death, and the slender body disenegrating into nothingness.

He clenched his fists, it was all he could do to keep calm. He couldn't show his pain. He just couldn't. Not in front of Endymion, not in front of the youma, and especially not in front of Beryl.

Why is it all of a sudden so hard to remain stoic? He had not had any troubles whatsoever in the past. Then he realized his training did not involve tactics to keep sane after watching someone you love writhe in agony, desperately fighting Death. It was naturally assumed that you did not love, or feel anything in the Dark Kingdom. Love and pain were almost unheard of. Now that he thought of it, Queen Beryl's love for Endymion was really more of an obsession of lust than love. Why would you want to brainwash someone if you loved him?

Even Nephrite's love for the young Naru was more for personal gains. Up until the last moments of his life, he had used Naru, didn't care what happened to her, as long as he got the much needed energy. And when Nephrite had finally admitted his feelings for Naru, Malachite remembered laughing in his face, and plotting with Zoisite to get that traitor killed!

"What a grotesque, practical joke life is!" he thought miserably. "Why must I realize now, as Zoisite's dying, to find out what it really means to love? Why not sooner?"

The small body in his lap had begun to stop writhing, and the green eyes were heavy with death, long lashes framing his pretty face. Malachite felt his expression change from regret to peace, and created a beautiful shower of petals, heeding his lover's last wish. He watched silently as his lover expired, thankful to see a smile appear on his face, for he knew, that though the fire was dead, the embers remained. Unaltered, unchanged, forever .