Notes

Of COURSE... I've bounced around from project to project to idea, leaving little sketchy bits here and there and ever losing heart. Until I heard someone say "how much people are changed when they lose someone they love." Okay: how would people be changed if they DIDN'T?

So the 'series' starts maybe a couple minutes after "Sakura" would. It's a romance, or in all likelihood, as close as I'm able to come to one. I originally wanted to do something in the semi-alternate Stereo Drama continuity, just because it's such a happy little world... but... uh, maybe next time....

It is both more disjointed and more focused than other longfics of mine. The 'chapters' read a little like a series of short stories; and there's not much of the other characters about. E, that is, they're about, just not... not there. Any rate, it SHOULD be about fifteen parts, five to an 'arc'... but everything, everything is subject to review. ALWAYS!

Thanks will have to wait until the end this time. But "Bishoujo Senshi Sailormoon," of course, belongs to Takeuchi Naoko and Toei animation (remember these 'to' words!)... the story is mine... and 'komoriuta' means 'lullaby.'

Nevermind where I learned that (but if you can guess, give yourself a cookie).

Enough of this. Before I get too scared to post....

1

Kunzite whirled to stare at her in shock; and she smiled.

"I have changed my mind." she said levelly, and for just a minute he didn't understand. It was too much to understand all at once; too much and he was still shaking from what had happened--

or (when after maybe some seconds he did understand) what had not. He experienced a strangeness; a horrified relief, and the worthless adrenaline pounded in his ears.

He opened his mouth, trying to say something maybe-- but there was nothing to say.

She seemed to have expected it. "Get that out of here. He may... still be useful."

Then she was gone and Kunzite was left alone, with his surprise, or relief--

--or terror.

In some state of shock (which he would not allow to be obvious) the Lord Kunzite did what he was best at.

(What he had decided upon.)

He obeyed.

2

He had sat for a few days, he guessed, waiting-- almost hoping to be summoned. He wanted desperately to get away; and yet, knew he would not.

A few days here, in such quiet that the faint and shallow breathing was audible; if he listened. And sometimes he did. Other than that sound, and the faintest flutter of a heartbeat, he would have thought the person dead.

(But no. She said he may still be useful. We do not discard that which can still be of use...)

He'd said nothing, done nothing-- had nothing to say or do. The panicked frenzy of-- how long ago?-- seemed so very far away, and that forever all there had been was this silence....

(Silence except for the soft breaths. Sometimes he fancied they'd stopped, but they never did.)

How long, he wondered (without a flutter of worry), and could receive no answer. Logic would have him examine the extent of the injuries, supposed time until--

But Lord Kunzite found he could not think on it very well.

He reached for one of the hands, ungloved now. It felt vaguely clammy; so pale against the gloom surrounding him, marred with a number of paler scars. He traced one meticulously, examining and memorizing it-- and when he had done that for some reason he did not let go.

(So cold, he thought, and maybe that was why.)

Kunzite slid closer. He cradled the small hand in one of his own, laying his other over the top. Cold. (Maybe if he could warm it things would be alright)

The creature on the bed shifted minutely.

Immediately his gray-lavender eyes were riveted on its face, in a (seemingly cold) intense stare; frozen waiting. As he was, waiting for--

anything.

Its eyelids flickered; and its lips moved but a little, barely forming some word before it was still again.

(He had to breathe; he had to close his eyes just a moment because--)

The hand between two of his own twitched, settling itself more comfortably; and (he thought) a faint, pained smile now rested upon the drawn features.

--Lord Kunzite allowed himself to exhale.

He wasn't (quite sure), now; but oh, he was tired and could not remember when last he had been able to sleep. In a rare and disembodied moment of weakness, he allowed himself to slump sideways, falling maybe half on the bed (but enough).

And slept.

3

He materialized; still seething, trembling with the adrenaline in him--

(this is it, this is it, this is...)

...

It was quieter here.

"You managed?" there was only the slightest inflection in Kunzite-sama's tone; and he did not wait for an answer. Only beckoned, vaguely.

Zoisite went to him.

The crystal was a pure blue, and through it the foreign city looked... small. The lights flickered silently in the calm, not knowing that in a matter of hours, it might-- it would all be changed.

(But not for just this one moment.)

Almost unconsciously, Zoisite raised a hand to his face. Still stung-- damn roses. How dare--

...So quiet he could hear his heart, pounding wildly, nervous and feeling almost disembodied in the very intensity of it all.

The same heart skipped, and he inhaled sharply. A hand rested gently, almost affectionately, on the back of his neck.

Then--

Eyelids flickered, trembling; where am I?

He didn't know.

(So it must have been home)

4

It was not unusual in itself, that they had not spoken. Only that the silence was different now-- different, as how the crystal was different-- as... as something... was different.

Thunder rumbled faintly; and he frowned.

It was a silence thick with things unsaid or asked that had to be, between the likes of those who knew not how to say. Or ask.

He closed his eyes a moment. Ask what?

What's happened, now?

Why am I here?

Why does She....

Or can't you--

Emerald eyes opened again. Couldn't, shouldn't ask that. He... he should know.

(But something was strange and maybe Wrong since he'd awoken to find the great Lord so blankly silent; sleeping, with a hand holding firmly to his own.)

It was... a feeling that something had happened; happened to Kunzite-sama, or him, or even all the world-- and tomorrow, come tomorrow, he would see Her again, and would have to somehow with this latest plan prove his work, and Zoisite wasn't sure if he even wanted--

...Forcibly, he lay down; eyes still open and staring, and hand reaching out to touch Kunzite-sama's shoulder, reassuring himself at least of that presence.

I should sleep, he thought. If he was not strong, tomorrow, She might kill him.

Sleep.

He wondered vaguely if he would.

5

He stood hesitantly; carefully, making sure he would not fall. He felt the eyes watching him (as they ever did) frightening in their intensity to anyone who did not know better.

"I'm ready." he said quietly. He was lying through his teeth and he knew it; and maybe Kunzite-sama knew too. Maybe not.

"Sou ka."

Silvery eyes brushed over him a moment, but Kunzite-sama said nothing more; but extended his gloved hand, offering (this time).

Zoisite stepped forward and took it, blushing faintly.

(at least--)

He was not quite sure whether to be ashamed or delighted, as the energy swirled about them; and before he could make up his mind, Her audience chamber had taken shape. Kunzite-sama let go, and he was left alone.

(tried to suppress a shudder)

He wasn't sure (if he stood here again) what would happen-- but nothing seemed to and She was only talking to Kunzite-sama, talking far away and blurring about what they had to do.

(he managed to stay upright, at least)

"Not for Queen Beryl-sama; I am doing this for myself. If you'll excuse me."

How many times, he wondered somewhat bitterly, have I stood here?

"Whenever the sailorsenshi are in danger..."

"I apologize--"

Then he found he could not move at all; frozen in a terrified panic. Oh, this was not-- not a good idea-- shouldn't've--

"You do remember this is your very last chance."

Kunzite-sama was bowing but he could not. They had turned to look at him but he could not quite see--

"I am responsible for--"

--It was not so bad a second time, just a quiet sort of collapse. I'll die this time, he thought in a single and ludicrous moment; but never met the ground.

Kunzite-sama was apologizing to Her-- profound and fervent (and cold), and it hurt him. Hurt him more to hear Her usual sneering chuckle in response. She-- didn't at all understand-- or maybe She did, which made it worse... oh, if I could....

(the swirling of the transport cleared his head, and he blinked-- still upright, held there almost painfully and held more painfully still in those cold eyes)

Kunzite-sama shook him briefly (furiously) in the rarest moment of emotional display. Zoisite choked faintly, but the silvery eyes did not so much as flicker.

"Never lie to me again."

(Hadn't known...? Or hadn't quite known-- how--)

Zoisite... blinked. Slowly, once, and then he did not cry. Leaning forward (as those arms relaxed) he laid his head against Kunzite-sama's chest and whispered, "I'm sorry."

1

There was a different sort of feeling now, that was what it was; not desperation anymore.

More resignation than that-- for now he knew; knew, and--

(and it felt so strangely close.)

It disturbed him briefly, now the fierce terror had faded, and a quiet was left. In Quiet had grown an equally subtle and soft fear--

Fear tempered, though, by Promise; a soul that would not let him escape. And he could wish but for a moment that it would.

(...it's so quiet...)

He ran a hand almost gingerly over Kunzite-sama's pale hair, careful not to wake him. Something had changed-- something just subtly in the way things were-- a feeling--

(a feeling. He felt... uneasy.)

It was a dull ache, the terror of circumstances beyond his control, beyond anyone's control; the feeling of things gone wrong which were... irreparable...

(He sleeps so... peaceful)

So tired. Brushing a lock of silvery hair from those familiar features, he concentrated-- almost desperate again-- wanting to memorize everything about the sleeper, everything about this moment of solitude. Wanting to save this forever because he had no idea what was going to happen next; and he was frightened.

A low choking sob (but no tears) as he half-threw himself down, clutching fervently at the bronzed shoulders, burying his face in Kunzite-sama's neck. He wanted so badly to sleep, safe-- forget it all--

A murmur indicated that the sleeper had awoken, at least partially. He murmured a heartfelt apology and lay down again. But found he could not close his eyes.

There was a long, long and tentative minute before an arm wrapped securely about his shoulders. He forced his eyelids shut, preserving it all without seeing. It could be alright. If things only... continue....

(all that matters. all that matters.)

2

It had been a little while though, and things were maybe normal.

Kunzite sat, a rare moment of solitude, with his head in his hands. He should not be feeling this-- should not be feeling at all. Should not worry.

But he did.

Everything is right. he told himself, Everything is progressing nicely. We are not defeated. And he didn't feel defeated. Just-- penitent.

Of course there was no shame in serving Her. No shame in doing what he was meant, following Her orders. His (longago) decision had been one of necessity; furthermore, no ill had come of it.

...Explaining that out to himself was not helpful. He gritted his teeth. Had he... done anything else, nothing would be changed, save perhaps he would be dead.

But this way, he just wasn't sure (was he ever)-- Zoisite seemed alternately convinced of opposites, halfway more timid and halfway more sure than before. It was... frustrating.

Kunzite did not like to be unsure.

Which made him wonder why he had even paused in his decision.

"Kunzite-sama?"

It made him wonder, too, why Her mercy had overtaken him with this disturbing combination of guilt and relief and terror. It wasn't proper. Zoisite was looking at him.

He rose fluidly, perfectly expressionless; and in a moment thought perhaps he was learning something.

Kunzite took Zoisite into his arms. There was a fleeting desire to say, "I will protect you," but it was not possible, of course.

He said nothing.

3

He didn't have much time to decide.

Zoisite fidgeted uncomfortably, waiting. No doubt, no doubt at all an opportunity would arise, today. They'd been getting closer and closer, lately. It couldn't be long. And even if not today--

Then too soon. He wasn't ready yet.

Now the fierceness had died and he thought he knew, terror was beginning to creep up on determination, and he had his doubts. With the ginzuishou in their hands-- in Her hands--

He shuddered, although he was certain of nothing.

He had sworn, before, but it was a promise that-- well-- if he could save both of them by breaking it, then he should do so gladly.

He hesitated.

The thing seemed to have spited him at every turn; defeating his efforts, causing him such anxieties, beating him within an inch of his life and still forcing him to desire it. He no longer depended upon it now, but to relinquish it fully--

Zoisite sighed; glanced restlessly about. Kunzite-sama would be back soon, and it would probably be time. How much did Kunzite-sama still value the jewel?

That... that was the question... that and--

And, what would She do?

He took a deep breath, feeling the decision settle uneasily upon his breast.

4

They'd lost it, today.

Anger flared cold beneath its customary shield. Lost, and not because of those children or their divine luck-- not through any failure in planning--

and not through any accident.

Zoisite was curled miserably on one of the stone ledges, half-watching. There was a vaguely lost, a confused look about him-- mingled with a resigned certainty. Kunzite could no more understand him than ever.

After today--

"I'm sorry, Kunzite-sama." one of Zoisite's hands self-consciously traced the thin scar on his cheek. He offered no more; but looked to his superior with a sort of expectancy.

The Lord Kunzite's only reply was a cold, shielded glare. Apologies were no good. Something had happened (today) which he could not explain, did not understand, and would not forgive.

The other's eyes dampened then, but he remained yet... unmoved.

(I thought he...)

"I'm sorry." Zoisite laid his chin on his knees, shifting his gaze towards the floor. "I won't fail you again, Kunzite-sama." a declaration tentatively proffered from one so seemingly-- suddenly-- young. Nothing but the voice of a forlorn little boy, pained and heartfelt and reverent.

...He nodded coolly; allowed himself to relax, somewhat. He knew Zoisite would sense it-- the verdant eyes calming and softening, meeting his; and it was amended.

Zoisite offered his hand then, still mumbling vague apologies-- and Kunzite took it.

1

"Kunzite-sama!"

The eyes turned (confused) to see him, and he broke into his practiced torrent.

"Kunzite-sama-- why do we have to do this anymore? Isn't there enough, for us?"

The other made as if to break in, but Zoisite would not allow it. "She'll never have enough, not so long as-- but Kunzite-sama--"

The cold eyes flashed dangerously at him. "What are you saying?"

Within the heavily-guarded tone was warning; but he ignored it. "That She hurts you." he whispered, "I don't know why you stay here, but I can't stand this place anymore. Can't stand Her anymore. I--"

The gloved hand moved faster than he could have seen, had he bothered. The sound of his body striking the floor echoed through him, mingled with (distant) his own cry of pain.

Then a long moment, lying still. If this was lost, he thought he had a choice. But he did not know what he would choose, given that.

Above him somewhere, he heard Kunzite-sama make a soft, unintelligible noise. This was begun, anyway, and he had to finish it. But not for a moment, just yet.

Weary, Zoisite rested his cheek against the floor and waited.

2

Grayed eyes glittered coldly, as he spoke, breaking the silence.

"Remember what happened to Nephrite."

Yes. Zoisite rose slowly to his feet, facing away. For a moment he was silent, as if weighing each chosen word before he spoke it.

"Who... would kill me?" he asked finally, unable to conceal a tinge of bitterness.

The Lord Shitennou's reply was immediate and without emotion.

"Endymion would."

Kunzite received nothing in return, save his companion clenching both gloved fists, in an effort to-- conceal something?

(Zoisite never concealed anything, from--)

...

...He stepped forward slowly, laid a hand on one of the thin shoulders. Their owner trembled violently a moment, before he relaxed; turning into the half-embrace with a resigned sigh.

"Yuruse." Kunzite said, voice low. Shouldn't have hit you.

"Never mind." the gentle tenor sounded tired, very tired; but still with that hint of sweetness. "Never mind, Kunzite-sama, I'm sorry."

3

He reached out a hand, brushing it lightly down that same pale cheek; and Zoisite leaned into the faint caress, eyes closing softly. They stood silent a long minute, hovering in between one world and another.

"Kunzite-sama," Zoisite leaned forward slightly, brushing his lips against the other's throat, "come with me?"

... "Where?" he asked carefully. He knew.

"Away." the quiet voice trembled, knowing too and pretending not too. It was a half-familiar game they played, of vague and useless and unspoken words. The latter hung heavy in the air a moment as he chose not to reply.

He would not waste his breath upon frivolities.

"Please..." Zoisite continued, tone beginning to waver desperately, "If you stay here I don't know what--"

He snapped to attention, drawing sharply back a step; guarded silver eyes burning with a cold fire.

"Get out."

"Kunzite-sama--"

The game ends here, he thought detachedly, words ago. Not anymore.

"Kunzite-sama!" the cry was furious, terrified, and a thin gloved hand was clutching at his shoulder as he turned to walk away. "Damn Her, She knows you-- She uses you-- She'll kill you-- She'll kill you."

Looking back was impossible. He had no idea what he would find in the depths of the other's eyes, but he knew there would be nothing hidden now. It was too late.

The Lord Kunzite did not move.

"...kill you." the momentary flare was lost, and he heard Zoisite draw back, murmuring tactful apologies.

He sighed inaudibly (his own flicker of honesty). Voice softer now, he said, "Go on."

There was a faint scuffling against the stone floor; and he knew Zoisite had bowed. Moments later, he heard the other rise-- a choked rendition of his name-- and then the sharp tapping of boots, farther and farther away.

He exhaled carefully, permitting himself no obvious reaction.

But there was hope in his eyes.

4

It was like he'd done it before, like he knew he'd never do it again, just walking-- walking as long and as quickly as he could, leaving Her and all the rest behind him as he went. Everything lifted away, as a great burden from his shoulders.

And something missing, somewhere.

He knew, of course, but he lied. (Just for a little while) he lied to himself that he could keep walking forever; keep walking 'till he forgot and never turn around.

But there was one power still She held over him (and he knew it) and always-- always would. When a little time had passed, he let himself realize it, adjusted his eyes to seeing his last glimpse of Earth, the slight chill in the air and the faint greenness about and everything he'd ever let himself find beautiful about it. He should like to stay here, maybe, he thought. Strange though it was-- and even hostile-- it was pretty. Pretty and with the distinct feel of Life and Energy.

(He wondered if Kunzite-sama knew.)

It would be nice to live here. Just a little house, secluded, and no-one ever knowing. Away from Her.

But he couldn't do that, of course.

So after so many steps, he turned, and went back.

5

Home was cold; colder, perhaps, than he remembered. He did not try to be quiet as he entered, making his way through the twisting passages to the core of it all, where his Lord sat, in blank silence.

The lavender eyes remained fixed; staring straight ahead into the twining, darkened formations with the soft sound of thunder outside. They did not flinch as sharp footsteps crossed the floor, and halted before him.

Zoisite's breathing was audible as he fell to his knees, resting his forehead on Kunzite-sama's knee. Another moment passed, in the cold, before Zoisite felt a hand rest almost wearily on his head, fingers tangling everso lightly into his hair. His breath caught; and he closed his eyes.

Kunzite-sama exhaled softly, his gaze drifting to the man who knelt before him. Sad eyes, now there was no-one to see.

A hand clutched faintly at his pants leg, and he felt the slight frame of his companion shudder. "I... will get the ginzuishou for you, Kunzite-sama."

The Lord Shitennou looked away.

6

He sighed softly, closing his eyes as the familiar hands moved over him gently. She wouldn't give him up, She never would. And what would happen after She'd won--

One of those hands cupped his cheek; and he opened his eyes again, meeting his companion's lavender gaze. Vaguely concerned. Not yourself. He wound his arms around Kunzite-sama's neck, shaking his head.

better not to try.

Kunzite-sama sat up; and Zoisite settled half in his lap, still clutching at him. Silence reigned as it often did, or because this time there was nothing to be said. Outside, the storms had subsided at least briefly; but a few rare, moist drops falling from the brewing clouds, their soft pattering muffled by the darkness.

Absently, grayish eyes stared through the opposite window, a hand brushing over Zoisite's hair. It had been a long day. It had been a long time, but now it was over. The dawning of a new era. Come morning, and everything would have changed.

He sighed lightly; and almost imperceptibly tightened the arm about Zoisite's shoulders. Such a long time.

"Kunzite-sama." the voice quiet, muted by the gray jacket it pressed against. "I just... I..."

The thin body in Kunzite's arms shifted minutely, hands tightening on fistfuls of his coat. "I've come to care for you, Kunzite-sama."

He closed his eyes, leaning his head back slightly. There was another silence, made tangible by the search for an answer.

"I'm glad you're here."

Zoisite sobbed.

~ End

Endnotes

Unusual for me, because this has been a very focused and very quiet fic. It began differently, but then I... changed it. At first it was hard to write exclusively on Kunzite and Zoisite, without showing any outside; but then the fic seemed to take control of itself and became more and more closed, to the point where the original conceived ending changed... rather drastically, in terms of tone and setting.

Enough of my disturbed thought patterns, however. I'd like to thank all my friends, my idols, my fellow fanfiction writers, many far superior to myself. To Takeuchi-sama, of course, and Toei animation, and the esteemed vocal talents of Nanba Keiichi and Sogabe Kazuyuki. Thanks also to my poor history teacher who unknowingly set me off on this by talking about Andrew Jackson. And thank you, Andrew Jackson (limitation of democracy, not extension, by the way).

The point-- although perhaps more deeply explored and well-executed-- is the same as it was long, long ago when I first really endeavored to become a writer of fanfiction. I seem to have come full-circle. (Though of course, it is not what the author has to say, but what the reader hears....)

So if I may plead with you, whomever you are: commentary? I thrive on the stuff, literally, good or otherwise, long or short, anything. Please.

Other than that....

Sakebe! Mune ni himeta omoi o
Yami o kirisaku hodo hageshiku
Ima... todoke yume ni nemuru anata e
Towa ni kawaranai ai no akashi

-- Brightness and Darkness