His mouth gaped, opening and closing, his green eyes wide and rolling. He felt himself sucking in breath; suddenly in this stale hallway there was not enough air. As he gasped inward, his throat made thick, gagging noises.

The wall he'd backed against was slick with tiny dust particles, and Zoisite let himself slip to the floor.

The hand, that warm, insistent pressure, never left his face, and though his staring green eyes could not see it, it remained, slipping lower and lower.

As it reached his throat, he jerked, a convulsive attempt to right himself, or at least get out of the way. His fingers raked the floor and his feet scuffed the wood. And yet, he couldn't move from his position; these warm fingers on his neck held him with a weight greater than his own.

It did not stop there, but slowly, steadily, slid below his uniform collar as though he was wearing no jacket at all. Still Zoisite could see nothing, nothing but empty hallway. Yet someone hovered over him, their shadow stopping him from moving, their fingers resting on his collarbone.

It felt violent, this presence, its touch sending patterns of red and black through Zoisite's skin. He could see them; they washed across his vision.

Struggling a bit more, he suddenly realized why he couldn't move; why he couldn't breathe. It was sitting on him. He could feel it now; it had dragged him to the floor, and now it sat on him. If it didn't move soon, he'd be crushed for sure.

He found himself taking in slow, shuddering breaths, pushing them out hard, trying to make a noise. Any noise. But his shallow breathing was soundless to him, as was the weight that settled heavier and heavier upon his chest.

The touch on the base of his throat was burning now. He could feel it stripping the skin there, in that small, singular indentation. He remembered the tiny spiked daggers that some rogue youma used to carry, and how it had felt when one nicked his arm. This touch was not unlike that. He shut his eyes and grit his teeth.

Just then, the pressure lifted a bit, as a sound reached Zoisite's ears. It was not his ragged breathing, or his feet scraping against the floor. The noise grew louder, the intermittent clunking unmistakably the sound of footsteps.

Then the fingers on his clavicle lifted. There was a faint, posthuman sigh above him, and then nothing.

It - whatever it was - was gone. All with Zoisite never seeing it. For a moment he sat, eyes shut tight, gulping the foul air.

There was warmth beside him now, and a new presence, one hauling him up to stand in the fold of grey-clad arms. There was a voice in his ear, hands in his hair, and at last- something good.

Kunzite-sama, Kunzite-sama.

At least, Zoisite had meant to say that, but all that came from his mouth was a soft and ill-guided stuttering. He leaned into the embrace, letting Kunzite talk to him, not listening to a word the other was saying. Right now, all that he concentrated on was a fleeting comfort, one that he hadn't felt since he'd last sought repose in the Dark Kingdom. Perhaps it was brought on by Kunzite's nearness, soothing his panic. It must be.

"Zoisite?"

The boy jumped out of his lull, suddenly realizing exactly what Kunzite was saying. He opened his mouth, but was interrupted by another voice.

"Oh, there he is."

This was Jadeite. Zoisite hadn't even heard him approach. He looked around, finally noticing that not only Jadeite had joined them, but Nephrite as well. The two stood at the hallway junction, staring at Zoisite.

"He's bleeding again," Nephrite said. "Look, it's running down into his collar."

Zoisite's hand went to his face, only to be intercepted by Kunzite's. The silver king's gloved fingers worked into Zoisite's hairline, the gesture as impersonal and brusque as that of a nurse.

"There's no cut." If there was surprise in Kunzite's voice, it couldn't be heard. Finally, the obligatory question: "Zoisite, what happened?"

Zoisite stood for a moment, feeling the wet rivulets trickling past his jaw. What could he say? That he was accosted by some invisible assailant? He had no proof of that. Only blood from some nonexistent wound, and dust on his hands and boots.

"Nothing...." He looked down to the floor. "I have a headache."

Silence for a moment.

Jadeite shrugged some dirt from his shoulders and continued to watch Zoisite. Nephrite shared his gaze.

Zoisite, who before had been passing exploratory fingertips over the red lines on his face, suddenly cast a glance at the other two kings. His expression fluctuated, a transformation so abrupt that his very features seemed to change shape. His eyes went narrow, the green within them darkening. His lips tightened, and he rolled his head towards Jadeite in a manner that could only have been picked up from Kunzite.

"Did you find the cat?" He asked, his voice quiet.

Jadeite started. "Oh, yes- " he said, bending his arm over his head in a sheepish simian scratch. "Yes, I did. Took some time, but I trapped her in a cupboard on the second floor."

A cough interrupted him.

"That is to say, Nephrite trapped her." Then Jadeite's expression brightened. "This house...!" he exclaimed, clasping his hands. "This house is remarkable! I've never seen anything like it, either in the Dark Kingdom or on Earth. The architecture is so fine, everything is paneled by precise strips of wood. And the fixtures! There's no pump; one simply pulls the handle and the water runs by itself."

"Runs warm, too," Nephrite put in.

"Any food?" Zoisite asked.

"Oh...." Jadeite paled. In his excitement, he had forgotten the dull ache in his stomach. "I don't know; I haven't had time to look. There must be... this house has everything else."

"If there is food," Nephrite cut in, "that means someone must live here."

"You shall go look," Kunzite said, addressing neither Nephrite nor Jadeite, but nodding in their general direction.

Nephrite muttered something, but since Kunzite wouldn't stop staring at him, he turned and stalked down the opposite hall of the t-section. Jadeite looked from him back to Zoisite and Kunzite, and after a moment's hesitation, trotted off in the wake of the auburn-haired king. A few scuffs and echoing voices, and they were gone.

Zoisite stood for a moment, looking up at Kunzite. He had hoped that the others departing again would allow him the closeness he had been feeling a moment ago, but it did not. Kunzite's silver eyes were fixed on some indeterminable point beyond Zoisite's head. One hand fingered the spot on Zoisite's brow where the cut should have been, the other remaining at his side.

"Let's go Zoisite," he suddenly said. "Let's go to the second floor and find the cat. And perhaps while we are there, we'll use the miraculous 'fixtures' to clean away your blood."

Zoisite shrank back at the tone in "your blood". Your blood, your fault. Then he straightened as Kunzite swept up his hand, and began to lead him slowly down the hallway.

The way back into the entry was easier to find than he had thought, considering how lost he had thought himself not long ago. Just a couple of turns, and they were facing once more the double front doors. These were closed now, and the foyer was even darker than before.

Zoisite barely noticed the looming spiral of the stairwell, only looking up at it when Kunzite led him to the first step. They stopped for a moment, tracing the magnificent construction with their eyes up to the second floor. Zoisite noticed with some amazement that the staircase stood on its own, not touching the rest of the house at all except at the top and bottom. "Opposing forces", Kunzite called it.

They climbed it quickly, Kunzite looking up, Zoisite looking down over the banister. He had an incredible urge to spit from this elevated height, something he'd wanted to do in the Dark Kingdom, but never found the moment.

When they reached the top, they paused, looking from left to right. Jadeite had said ‘a cupboard’, but he hadn’t said where.

Just then, an unmistakable and furious yowling caught their attention. It was muffled and distant, seeming to come from the hallway right of the landing. One of the upper windows of the foyer cast a beam of dull sunlight onto the carpet there, revealing it to be a dark, rich purple. It guided the way into the prospect corridor.

"Luna, I believe," said Kunzite. The two started walking towards the sound.

Straight down the hall, and a sharp left turn led them into a cramped room, from which the cat's screeches were coming. The floor was bare, though the wooden boards seemed to have been polished. There was a small, circular window, and its light fell on a line of cupboards mounted on the wall.

Cupboards!

Zoisite skidded up to one, tapped it, and listened for any noise inside. Luna had cleverly fallen silent, and so Zoisite continued his systematic exploration by throwing open the little doors one by one. Perhaps not the most cautious way to go about searching for a cornered cat, as Kunzite's strained expression indicated.

The last of the cupboard doors was opened, and Zoisite stood back, puzzled. "The cat's not in any of these."

"Well, perhaps she's in another room."

"But... the sounds were coming from in here, I know it."

"Well, she's trapped in a cupboard. Somewhere on the second floor. We'll find her."

"But-"

"Look, Zoisite," Kunzite interrupted, his tone changing. He had walked to the other end of the small room. "Here's one of Jadeite's 'fixtures'."

Zoisite walked over to join him, noticing that Kunzite was standing before a deep washbasin. It was carved of some white, glossy stone, one Zoisite had never seen before. He watched Kunzite's hand, resting on the would-be pump handle. A turn of the wrist, and a faint squeak of the metal, and clear water ran from the spout in an eager flow.

"Fascinating, no?" Kunzite said, more to himself than Zoisite.

"Magic, perhaps."

"I don't think so. It seems rather mechanical, actually. Come here," He placed one hand on Zoisite's shoulder and led him closer. The other hand brought water- oddly warm- to Zoisite's face.

"The light isn't much good," Kunzite said, his voice much softer than before, "but we may as well wash away this blood."

Zoisite smiled and let Kunzite's hand pass over his face. He closed his eyes as Kunzite’s fingers worked with gentle precision through Zoisite's bangs. Soon his forehead and cheek had been cleansed, and Kunzite moved down to his throat. Zoisite giggled and Kunzite grinned.

"It would seem the blood has gone down into your shirt, Zoi-chan." Kunzite's fingers went to the clasp on Zoisite's uniform.

However, this sweet distraction was cut short when shouting from the main floor reached their ears.

"They’ve found something."

Kunzite was the first to turn back towards the hall, Zoisite sighing and following.

They retraced their steps quickly, returning to the top of that massive suspended staircase. Zoisite peered over the railing, only to see Jadeite hopping about down below.

"Food!!" the blond king called up. "We've found the pantry!"

"And it has food?" Zoisite asked the obvious- and the unbelievable.

"Yes! Good to eat, not stale or rotten or any such thing!"

With an air of semi-disbelief, Kunzite and Zoisite clattered down the stairs, causing the old structure to creak pitifully.

"Where?" Zoisite demanded as they reached the bottom.

"This way." Jadeite led them through a convoluted mess of turns and doorways, coming out into a large room, one lit by several wide windows.

The ample light revealed a massive oak table, standing squat on impossibly thick legs. The floor was clay-tiled, the walls wooden and hung with countless pots and utensils. In the corner, a looming oven stood dusty and black, its pipes and grates so unlike the primitive cooking structures of Earth. Everything looked as though it had never been used, and yet... food?

From what appeared to be a closet, there came scuffling, and a crash, and shortly thereafter Nephrite appeared. Looking rather elated, he held a pair of bright orange carrots in his hands.

"Look at this! Vegetables! Fresh, too!" Nephrite's face was bright, and his in his smile, all of his teeth could be seen.

"How can this be?" Kunzite wondered aloud, walking forward to take a look in the pantry. Zoisite skipped after him, and peered inside the storage room.

His eyes widened to pain and his stomach ached furiously. The pantry, to his amazement, was lined with shelves, stacked high not only vegetables, but… everything. Fruit in wicker baskets, things strange and unnamable in heavy jars, loaves of bread, even some dry meat.

"But, for this all to be fresh..." Zoisite started.

"... Someone has to live here. I know," Nephrite finished. "But that doesn't make sense. You saw the dust lying about. The air smells as though the house has been shut up for years."

"But everything is good," Zoisite muttered, picking up the bread and mouthing an experimental morsel. Fabulously soft, it was the best thing he had ever tasted. Without hesitation, he devoured the rest.

"Steady on, Zoisite," Jadeite raised a hand. "We can't just gobble this up. First we have to figure out why it's fresh. And how it got here."

"What? There's no time for that." Zoisite growled and reached for another loaf.

However, as his hand strayed into the recesses of the shelves, his fingers did not land upon bread. Rather, they came to rest on something soft, and unsettlingly warm.

Squealing sharply, he retracted his hand, and darted out of the pantry. He stood for a moment, breathing through his mouth, and staring into the startled faces of the other three kings.

"What was that all about?" Nephrite demanded.

Zoisite didn’t have to answer, for out from the pantry door jumped a tiny black form. Nimble and four-legged, it bounded onto the table, and, sparing a bronze-eyed glance and the four kings, leaped out the door.

"Not again!" Jadeite cried, dashing after the Moon cat.

"That was… Luna?" Zoisite asked, utterly confused. "But I thought you trapped her upstairs."

"I did…." said Nephrite, conveying both hurt pride and obvious bewilderment. "She couldn’t have gotten out."

"But we heard a cat upstairs when we were up there." Kunzite peered down the hall in search of Jadeite. Then he stepped back into the kitchen. "I think he’s chased her to the second floor again."

For a moment, the three stood in the kitchen, absolutely silent. The food had been momentarily forgotten, and now they found themselves listening to Jadeite’s distant footsteps. Their hollow resonance betrayed his location, undoubtedly on the spiral stairs.

Suddenly, there was a clatter, and a dissonant splintering. And then, a few seconds later, the dreaded, heavy thud.

The three froze in silence, listening breathless for noise. Any noise.

The soft patter of paws announced an arrival in the kitchen, and all turned to see the lithe black cat enter the room once again. She stopped, regarding the three kings.

"Where’s Jadeite?" Zoisite breathed, half expecting an answer from the supposed talking feline.

Luna made no noise, simply staring back. Then bending her head, she licked at her paws.