Itai.
Why? I don't remember. Pain? Affirmative. Sleep? None. Time? Around a week. Success? What? Insane? Surely.
I tried.
"Liar"
There wasn't much time left.
He drummed gloved fingers on the arm of his chair, scowling. Perhaps he'd gone too far, in publicly denouncing the Queen, but the truth would be told. And he had never bothered to be afraid of her.
Still. Her childish temper was wearing thin, and the race was on. He no longer had time to dabble in energy gathering; even if he managed to placate her, it could only end in Beryl attaining her own objectives. And he had made it plain that they were not his own.
The singular solution left to him was the ginzuishou.
And the ginzuishou was a victory in so many ways--! To have the power to kill Beryl, control Metallia-- he would have everything he'd ever dreamed. To watch the shock and horror of the Great Lord-General as he saw the failure of the cause and the Queen to which he pledged his loyalty. To witness the breaking of the little sakura, so selflessly and obviously infatuated with his dear Kunzite-sama, when he found the truth; that love was a means by which one may be manipulated. It was too bad Jadeite was no longer available; well, he'd already learned his lesson....
They had never liked Nephrite. And he had never liked them. He'd never liked anyone, that he could remember; no matter how many yoma or humans were lost on his charm. They were only tools.
(It was much safer that way. Much easier for him to reach his goals.)
He respected only one person.
And to preserve the only life he held sacred, he had to find that crystal. And soon. Not that the presumptuous upstart really presented him with any competition, but if Zoisite were to go whining to his beloved Kunzite-sama... who, although he obviously could not care as Zoisite so naively hoped, would probably jump at the chance of defeating Nephrite. And-- Alright, he had to admit to himself. Perhaps I'm not quite a match for His Esteemed Majesty, in terms of raw power.
So he'd have to be quick.
Very much so.
He poured himself a drink. The whole thing was beginning to wear on his nerves, but he couldn't let himself break down. It had been a close thing with Zoisite, earlier... annoying, pathetic little upstart. He almost clenched a fist-- but forcibly relaxed, taking a long drink. Couldn't get riled now. Kill him later. Kill him later....
And there was the matter of the silly mortal girl trailing his human guise. Still useful, of course, but--
--but he was so tired of her. Tired of her trailing him, smiling her silly, pretty, innocently naive and stupid smile which had no idea that he was an immortal being of immense power, prone to bedding anything he found attractive, manipulating whatever he could, subordinate to and soon-to-be wielder of one of the greatest evil forces--
Oh, gods.
He drained the glass and sighed in exasperation. Was it getting to the point where he couldn't even trust himself anymore?
Surely not.
Surely not....
He paused; took a deep breath. And the familiar confidence took hold of him again. Of course, there was nothing to worry about.
But the stars' vision was garbled by his own distractions-- fuzzy images of the girl, a sparkling silver crystal, and Zoisite in tears. Despite what he would try to tell himself, Nephrite was shaken.
And rapidly growing desperate, as his time ran short.
But he wouldn't let himself be broken. Death first.
...My sentiments may have changed somewhat, but not much. At least I
DID it. I make no apologies for characterization. Though I do not at all
proclaim to be flawless I'd rather die than revise this again because
I'm so damn sick of it. But flame away, please.