Author's Notes

Um, well, I-- um-- hmmmm....

It took roughly five false starts before I actually really began the stupid thing. It wandered around various stupidities, bumblings, and moronic ideas before I fell into a kind of half-plot.

And some time later, I gave up on that, and realized what I wanted to do, and so I did it, and here it is, dammit.

What is this? Essentially, a character sketch, or a short story in fifteen disjointed parts. It's a followup to "Sakura". And it's about my favorite anime character.

Much gratitude to Sunstar and Tavalite who prodded me to get started on this. And to anyone who ever read "Reaching Beyond Death" and still dared get within a few miles of one of my fanfics. Thank God for tolerant people.

This is NOT my first fanfic, so feel free to flame the living hell out of me. In fact, please do. In fact, you can even email me and say nice things, if you are compelled to do so. In fact, I'd like that a whole lot.

And without further ado...

Prologue

What are you?

All that you are.

What am I?

But only a part of me.

What am I-- alone?

You are nothing.

You're lying....

That, I cannot.

I am--

You're only dreaming.

Awake.

Chapter 1

It was dark.

His emerald eyes glittered warily in the blackness, as he glanced around the vast chamber. The air was not musty, nor had anything been touched by dust-- it was only disturbingly still, disturbingly empty, disturbingly cold.

Gingerly he laid his hand to the wall, feeling the smooth, polished wood, untouched by scratches or decay. The whole place seemed... devoid of any human presence. No living, no dead, no ghosts, no footsteps-- just empty.

"N-nephrite?"

There was no reply, not in any form. He simply felt...

...nothing.

Isn't that better than there being something?

No, inexplicably, it wasn't. Slowly, he backed out of the vast hall, closing the door behind him. He had always hated the place; heavily tainted with the aura of his enemy, it had felt threatening, frightening, infuriating-- and now--

Now... it just wasn't.

There was nothing.

Nervously, he fingered the little crystal, which glittered coldly. It was the only sense of someone else in the cold, isolated world-- and indeed, it was little comfort.

Not in itself.

He had nowhere else to stay, he reminded himself; nor did he think he could step easily into the mortal world and become as such, to live. It wasn't... for him, to be among them, one of them. Not now.

Not yet... not yet.

His boots made little sound on the stone as he ascended the stairs, never faltering in the darkness. Strangely, he felt almost... removed... as if he didn't truly, couldn't truly, exist.

Or perhaps it was the previous months, that had been a dream; and soon-- sometime-- (I wish) he would awaken, and all would be as it had been....

So, so, so, so long ago.

Or was it? Time was elusive....

But there remained the emptiness of the house, the smooth crystal (which now, did not burn him) and the desperate determination, too strong for dreams.

Only the morning would know.

So he slept.

Chapter 2

As if I'd slept for a thousand years

uncovered a mystery

made a vow

saved the world

and awoken, in my own bed again.

Snow.

The only thing she could remember was snow. Not cold, but snow-- acres and acres of whiteness, as far as she could see.

Snow, and-- fear? pride? wistfulness?

...and-- pain.

She felt the dream had been long, but all that remained of it was the lingering emotions, remembered agony, and those miles and miles of...

snow.

Still, even the faint and fading memories were so very vivid....

Even as she prepared for school, methodically ate her morning meal, stared blankly into a book, she tried without success to remember the rest of the dream.

Finally, as she headed out the door, she let it go. There was no point, she couldn't remember another thing.

But she knew...

that it had been-- had been--

pleasant.

A feeling of being special, being chosen.

(snow)

Being a hero, maybe.

(snow)

Doing something noble. Like a fairy tale.

(snow)

Shaking her head, Mizuno Ami stepped down onto the sidewalk and started off. She couldn't be late.

But somewhere in the back of her mind, she kept the barren, white landscape

(must be nice to be someone special)

Chapter 3

darkened

mysterious

Evil

--being--

Who--

or, what...

Familiar-- loathed-- feared-- respected-- obeyed--

whatever you are

(were)

something

a little closer to home

(no more than before, darling)

He must have fallen asleep, because he had dreamed (again).

Dreams-- not his own, not the true, vague wanderings of a mind at rest; rather--

What?

--still in his hand? Blinking confusedly, he stared into the little crystal; then slowly let it roll and and with a soft clink on the floor.

It did not break. Nor did it occur to him until after that it could have broken. Cursing himself silently for lack of forethought, he picked it up again.

Its touch brought not so much as the slightest tingle to suggest it were anything out of the ordinary.

Such an object which had killed countless thousands.

So harmless, as any shard of carved glass...

He suddenly realized he had spent the night in what must have been Nephrite's bed. His conscious self shuddered, and he scrambled out and away as quickly as possible; but his subconscious registered no unease. As it had been in the star chamber-- indeed, the rest of the house-- it was as if the other had never existed.

Still-- he disliked the idea.

He started to smooth his uniform, and realized it was unwrinkled.

How--?

Not just any shard of glass. Involuntarily, he shuddered. Something about the ginzuishou-- unnerved him....

You should not fear what you are.

He glared at it. "What I am?" --leave me alone.

It did not reply.

And perhaps-- that was what frightened him.

Chapter 4

It was almost like seeing double (y'know?). Like, maybe, everyone had a twin somewhere, and they have this whole life-- and she was just glimpsing it.

So maybe sometimes people think you're them.

A woman had waved at her, today. In response, she'd given a V-for-victory sign (a trademark, for what reason she could not exactly remember) and waved back.

But the woman was a stranger.

Guess she thought she knew me.

It was all a little-- damaging (y'know?), thinking-- somebody out there's just like you, but isn't you at all. Like being afraid they'll steal your opportunities.

It was all so weird. She'd heard people say that thing about-- about snowflakes. And two birds in a bush all being unique, or something. But that was exactly what she felt--

--like there was another Aino Minako. Ha!

So maybe sometimes people think they're you.

Still. Maybe she was just crazy. But it was-- kinda like being--

well, forgotten. That was it. Like somebody had forgotten about her, made a mistake (y'know) and just created another somebody just the same.

We-eird....

And maybe the other person was really her, but still not her-- maybe she knew what they knew, and still (somehow) wasn't them. Thinking hard, were all her thoughts her own?

Well, some stuff was fuzzy. But maybe it's just cells dying, or whatever they say.

Or maybe.

Y'never know.

Not quite comfortable, not quite right. She shook off the feelings of uneasiness, and struck her best pose in front of the mirror.

Minako grinned.

Just see if I'll let you forget me!

Chapter 5

Just the little sakura.

Always, always, always-- nothing more, possibly not to any of them--

but now-- now he had the ginzuishou, he had (in his very hand) power surpassing all that Metallia had been, and now-- now he could have shown Nephrite, shown all of them--

Except, now, he didn't care. The one thing he saw-- and how it shamed him to have to say-- was that (damn pride and honor) he wanted Kunzite to be there.

And the ginzuishou--

would not grant him that. Not now, not yet, not just right-- something, something in its stone core... prevented it from realizing (or cruelly, did it realize?).

He threw it down in anger. Again, it did not break-- and perhaps, he was almost disappointed.

Stupid-- stupid-- stupid!

He could discover nothing about the damned thing. Not what he wanted to find out, anyway... teleportation, conjuration, telekinesis, hell, almost anything, powers he had never before dreamed of, were at his very fingertips-- so, so simple.

--but not what (no, not the only, solitary, single damned thing) that he would have died for.

Should have died-- had died-- "Just why the hell am I alive, anyway?" he asked furiously, turning on the round silver crystal (which did not so much as glitter).

More than anything (right that moment) he wanted to kick it, beat it, crush it into a thousand, million pieces--

...but he didn't. Some manner of restraint told him what was wise and what was not. The ginzuishou was still his only hope.

Go on, try. To kill me is to kill yourself....

Mocking.

He had to get out. Now. Before he really did do something regrettable. --Damn it!

And without allowing himself another thought, he turned on his heel and stormed out.

* * *

He paced restlessly, the distance between two trees. It was cold, damp, and windy, and the park was understandably deserted.

What's wrong?

He had been so single-sighted. So short-sighted, even-- as always.

It's not what it should have been, that's what.

So maybe it favored you once, but why? What did it want, what does it want?

He didn't know. He didn't know anything.

..."Excuse me."

He started. There was a woman standing not a foot in front of him; a woman much taller than he (or seeming so).

"Gomen--"

She caught Zoisite's shoulder as he began to back away.

"Not what you thought, is it?"

There was some aura about her. Decades of xenophobia made him wary. "Who--"

"Never mind that." she drew back slightly, holding him at arms length.

For a long moment they stood. His breathing suddenly seemed irrationally loud, and somehow he could not escape from her gaze.

Finally, the stranger spoke.

"Maybe not so broken."

He blinked; and, the spell broken, pulled away.

She looked at him without expression, but (perhaps) in the depths of her eyes, he could see her smile.

"A long way, but-- no. Maybe it's a way to be free, all of us."

Strangely he found his mood reversed, and he wondered what she meant. As he opened his mouth to ask any of a multitude of questions--

"If that's what you want."

She was gone.

Chapter 6

Give it time.

As she sat, staring out the window of her apartment, Kino Makoto was lonely.

But so far she'd stayed out of trouble. So far she had at least tried to be a good student. So far there were no mistakes that couldn't be repaired;

So far, there was still a chance.

Sometimes it seemed that she'd been there much longer than she had; sometimes, the months and weeks seemed too short. The days were all the same-- after so long they began to blur together. Her memory wandered through a haze of school and home, unsure of exactly what had happened .

(if anything)

To her, the anonymity was pleasant. True, she'd heard the whispers when she first came to Juuban-- but now they'd faded (as she had faded) and it was as if no-one really remembered the notorious bully who'd so frightened them.

(So far) she'd like for it to stay that way.

But it'd be nice (she thought) to have somebody to talk to, maybe. Or maybe just someone to be around, without talking. Just... somebody.

Give it time.

And she had time.

After being nobody, maybe (maybe) she could start becoming somebody new--

well, not quite like that. But somebody who wasn't just a bully. Somebody more like the real Makoto.

The Makoto she knew she was.

The Makoto that-- somehow, she'd discovered in the weeks of...

--apparently, nothing.

Makoto smiled (if sadly) and rose.

There was time. She could make a new life for herself.

(as in some dream)

Chapter 7

He hadn't bothered with the light. After decades of a life in a world which tended to be perpetually dark, he had grown well used to it.

The night was calm and quiet; still and gentle, lying softly over the city like a blanket. How (long ago) he would have killed for one peaceful night such as this.

Now-- now, he desperately wished it would storm, so he could sleep. The silence lay heavy on his ears, and on his mind, as he wandered the vast chambers and halls of the mansion, in search of (he knew not what)

three steps from the bed to the door

(what did she mean?)

five steps to the end of the hallway

(what do I do?)

endless steps down the winding staircase

(what does it want?)

five steps across the room to the door

(what if I can't...)

six steps, down the hallway

(why can't I wake up?)

left, and two steps out onto the balcony....

He sighed, and opened the palm of his hand to gaze at the tiny, prismical object. Slowly, he turned it over in his hand, watching it glitter in the pale moonlight.

A thousand times over asked, never truly answered. He whispered again.

"What are you?"

The reply was the same.

All that you are.

--"And why won't you help me?" he asked bitterly, "Just-- do this for me, and I'll... I'll give you back to Ser-- Sailor-- Tsukino Usagi. I don't want to play your games. I'm tired of this, tired of being special, I just--"

I will do what you ask....

The voice stopped him in his tracks. Half-hopeful, half-furious;

and it glittered.

"What do you mean you'll-- after I've spent-- why? what did I have to--"

He forced himself to stop and think (oh, Kunzite-sama...).

And if there's one thing Metallia ever taught me....

"What's the catch?" he could not keep his voice from shaking.

The crystal did not respond at once.

"Well?"

...

...the...

"Go on." he shook it (if only you would shatter.).

...the corruption will be... repaired.

"Corruption?" scowling, he clenched the round crystal tighter in his fingers, trying to control his temper, "Oh, you like to be cryptic, don't you? What the hell are you talking about?"

If he had expected the response to be smug, it was almost... cautious.

Corruption... can occur.

...In but a moment....

Chapter 8

She'd thought (just a day ago) she'd sensed evil. Some darkness, some foreboding, some threat, over the city.

But the morning dawned clear and bright, and....

...all seemed to be at peace.

It should have relieved her, but somehow... somehow, it did not. Something felt...

...nothing felt wrong.

Only, that is seemed as if everything, anything bad was just-- gone. And she felt (almost) as if she should have, could have done something-- and had (or hadn't)-- and (so strange)--

It was all (all) fine. Just fine. No evil. No danger. No bad spirits.

Just a calm, normal city full of happy, normal people.

And Rei.

She took a deep breath.

Anger. The (somehow) frustration caused her temper to flare. As if-- it shouldn't be peaceful, how dare it be peaceful....

Sadness. Something was missing, something-- not part of the evil, not part of the city-- something of herself. As if she'd lost something, but couldn't place what....

Fr-- freedom? ...Strangest still... but she felt some release; some great burden and responsibility-- gone.

Rei frowned slightly, but it was as much a smile.

Things would go on, from here--

as they would.

If... if all went well.

Chapter 9

It surprised him, almost, when he looked in the mirror and saw his own face. Perhaps the last time he had really looked at himself was that night... that last night, while he had waited (so long ago) for....

So long since then. He felt as if all the time in the world had gone by, and he had become something so-- so changed--

But the face in the mirror was his own.

It was half a relief, half a disappointment. Subconsciously, he was proud that he had showed them-- showed them all, who had spoken to him as no more than Lord Kunzite's toy.

And--

And some part of him wanted (never admit) to be nothing more.

...The face remained the same.

"Well?" he murmured (almost forgot, there, a moment).

The crystal glittered.

He saw... shimmering white, the towers of some great castle (vaguely familiar). He saw warriors, a group of eight, circled behind him. He saw power, and he saw-- all the world beneath.

He saw--

The future. As it is

(was)

(...almost...)

meant to be.

And he saw Kunzite.

His throat tightened, and almost unconsciously he reached out a hand, pleading-- only to bruise his fingers on the glass.

He opened his mouth to agree.

And (somehow) his gaze slipped from the (oh, beloved) face--

and he caught the barest glimpse of his own eyes.

Zoisite blinked, sending a tear trickling down his cheek

(And... nothing...) his reflection stared passively back.

His breath caught in his throat, and in a moment, the decision was made.

"No."

He had barely time to see the images fade, before the explosion shattered the mirror.

Chapter 10

Had he dreamed again?

He remembered (faintly) other dreams, of a princess, robed in white... silhouetted against the silver moon...

Well. Only dreams.

Mamoru got out of bed. He felt--

he felt extraordinarily cheerful, this morning; as if some great weight had been lifted off his shoulders, as if something had magically set him free.

He felt lighter.

He felt as if he had just returned to the mundane world, from something...

Oh, something dark and strange, something out of a fairy-story for children.

Ridiculous!

Yet somehow-- yes, somehow this morning, this world looked-- good.

Mamoru shook his head, chuckled slightly at himself. Getting caught up in some dream, like a silly little girl (odango atama?)

He froze.

why--

why was there blood on his wall?

Chapter 11

Blood, he felt blood on his hands and his face, and (pain) shards of glass embedded--

Kami-sama....

Reeling away from the smoke and ruin, he felt something else--

The crystal, still clutched in his hand.

"Damn you!" he screamed at it, as loudly as he could over the roar of the flames. And again-- "Damn you!" His breathing came in ragged gasps, as he stared wide-eyed (what--?) at what had once been Nephrite's mansion.

"What... what..." he allowed himself to sink slowly to the ground, his attention fixated on the dancing fire. "Why did you..."

It was only a building. came the contemptuous reply, Such is of no importance to us.

"Us--!" he choked on the words, gave up.

A few moments passed, as he collected himself, tried to organize his thoughts, and put them into words.

"No." he drew in another ragged breath, raising a hand to wipe blood out of an eye.

"No...

"...not again."

he dropped the glittering crystal, let it fall to the earth, and peeled off his bloodstained gloves. The flames still flickering eerily before him, he methodically plucked shards of glass from his hands, ignoring the tears of pain that trickled over his face, stinging.

(did I care about that, once?)

"Not again. I know you." he even smiled a little then.

The ginzuishou... registered shock; possibly anger. He didn't know, nor did he care.

"Not again. Not even... not even if I'm with him. I won't.

"I won't do that to him, not again.

"Not this time."

If even it was tinged with sadness, pain-- Zoisite smiled.

Chapter 12

Time, to her, was meaningless.

The passage of it, at any rate. Time itself-- was a burden, a chore, a horrid thing to be kept and upheld.

Something had happened, something had changed. And now--

--now perhaps (elusive) she saw her freedom.

Free from this Gate.

Free from this staff.

Free from this life.

Freedom.

If she had ever truly lived, she couldn't recall. In all her waking memory, it had been as it was: to sit, to observe, to watch, as all a manner of horrors happened, and she (could not--!) indeed, had to make sure that they did.

And now--

now, everything could have a chance to make itself happen, as things happened....

Who was she kidding?

I'm being selfish, this once. I never get what I want.

I want this.

I want to leave here forever.

I want to leave the nightmares behind, and I want to just live.

How long had it been? She could not (quite) remember her name, though she knew she had one.

Sailorpluto. What I wouldn't give to....

She could see all of them, all the lives wasted and ruined, enslaved; and it was her job to keep the story together-- to narrate-- to make sure the characters behaved as they should.

Not anymore.

It had been so long since she'd thought of deities, but now (Meiou Setsuna) would offer a last prayer, to whomever might listen.

Please, let me go.

Chapter 13

He had no idea where he was; some rooftop, some darkened city street... the wind (cold) whistled about him, pulling strands of his hair out of place.

He didn't care.

He reached up with a stinging hand, to dab (again) at the cut on his forehead. In the other hand....

He realized, eventually, that he was crying.

"I'm sorry, Kunzite-sama."

The crystal was cold now; he could sense no emotion from it--

perhaps... realization.

"I couldn't..."

Clouds were blowing in, but he could still see a few stars, glittering (cold). Nephrite's stars. What were we all....

"I... someday..."

It had (possibly) thought to taunt him a last time; or maybe the image was his own. He looked over the beloved figure before him-- tall, powerful, perhaps ominous, seemingly cold--

But, he loved me.

"I never said, how I loved you." he murmured, then, "Please... Kunzite-sama..."

Taking his eyes away from the apparition, Zoisite looked into the sky (now darkened, broiling, storming... starless)

"Wait for me?"

A last sob caught in his throat. He raised a hand; the vision before him did not fade. A moment, he closed his eyes, breathing raggedly, steeling himself--

and opened his eyes once more.

And threw the little crystal, as hard and as far as he could.

It flew into the darkness, beyond his vision. It did not even so much as glitter once as it fell away.

Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes, tried to stop his tears.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Six.

Seven.

Eight.

Nine.

T--

The faintest (sweetest) tinkling sound, as the shattering of finest--

crystal.

He breathed a sigh of-- relief. But-- was still (somehow) shattered.

It was... the last hope.

He'd lost any chance, now-- and though-- tomorrow, I'll know...

Now-- he could only collapse, sobbing brokenheartedly.

The blast came moments later-- violet light blinding him, throwing him backwards off his feet, and into a darkness (to which he saw no end).

(and from somewhere-- almost sadly)

(well... gomen)

...so be it.

Chapter 14

"Wait up, Naru-chan!"

"Usagi! How'd you do on the math test?"

"Oh, ugh! I failed, again... my parents are going to be furious!"

"You really should study harder, you know..."

"Naru! Don't you start..."

"Gomen ne, Usagi-chan."

"...Naru-chan, did I tell you..."

"What?"

"I... I just had the weirdest dream last night."

"Really? Tell me about it?"

"Yeah... I dreamed I was a princess--"

"A princess, really?"

"...Yeah, and I met a handsome prince, and..."

"Lived happily ever after!"

"Well... I guess I kinda woke up before that part."

giggle

"Oh, too bad!"

"Yeah... I sure wish I'd stayed asleep now that I have this test..."

"Aww, Usagi--"

"Ah, still not studying, Odango Atama?"

"--! You again!"

"Happy to see me, Odango Atama?"

"Argh! I'm not an Odango Atama! My name is Tsukino Usagi! Got it? Tsukino Usagi!"

"Whatever you say, Odango Atama..."

Chapter 15

Dreaming, again.

This time it was his own dream-- soft, sad, even as he was aware of it's happening. He felt-- warmth; the presence of another (so familiar).

And (in dreaming) he smiled.

In doing-- he felt the stickiness of the blood on his cheek--

and when his hand twitched slightly, he felt how it ached, still.

Not yet-- not yet. Another moment, please...

He felt-- subtly different. Something he been since...

since before waking memory.

But it was not altogether unfamiliar, this feeling of...

(reality).

Another minute, maybe two, he allowed himself to savor (one last time) the feeling of... security.

(as it was, how long ago, the last time)

"A-arigato..." he murmured softly, as he slowly let the dream go, and opened his eyes.

He blinked slowly.

Was it--

"Zoisaito...?"

And as his vision adjusted, he saw--

No...

--eyes. A soft silvery violet shade, tinged with worry.

For a moment, he could only stare.

Such a difference, from the past months

(all I ever...)

--Kunzite held him, as he cried.

End.

Author's Endnotes

Anyone who is not screaming 'WAFF'...?

...Oh, bite me. It's fun. :)

Well, anyway. It's over. Thank God. That's the last longfic for a while, I think (hope). Please (I'm going to get down on my knees here) please tell me what you thought, ne?

Oh, but if it's death threats, you'll have to take a number, okay?

"God's in His Heaven; all's right with the world."

[Captain's log, supplemental, stardate 1/24/99]

The most question I have been asked most frequently (oh, yes-- thanks to all who have commented! :) ) is "What the [censored] is going on here?!"

...Well, if you don't know, who am I to say?

We've walked both sides of every street
And through all kinds of windy weather
But that was never our defeat
As long as we could walk together

But there's no need for turning back
Cause all roads lead to where we stand
And I believe we'll walk them all
No matter what we may have planned..."

-Don McLean's "Crossroads"