Redemption Chapter 3: Spiritual Crisis, a sailor moon fanfic

Chapter 3: Spiritual Crisis

It is not a pleasant place to be, inside one's own culpable conscience.

Of all the jails in the world, there is none so well-confining. Whether past or present, all other prisons required the confinement of weak stone and breakable metal, of by-passable rules and flawed legal systems. Even Nemesis, the Crystal Kingdom's feared prison planet, was both weak and escapable, as Diamando and his ilk proved once before.

No, not laws nor bars nor walls nor even the ice cold of space could imprison a man as well as his own mind.

Punishments are temporary; guilt is eternal.

Eight men are about to discover that one principle better than anyone.

Jadeite was dreaming.

Strange how one automatically assumes that, since the word 'nightmare' wasn't used, then the 'dream' in question must have been automatically pleasant.

Look at the mighty Jadeite; the Master of Minds, the man who it is said was like the flowing stream of water that connected the entire Earth, a mountain on the mental planes. Now you're just a tired fool who can barely stretch his mind for a couple of miles. Pathetic!

It was a scorning, jeering voice that echoed in Jadeite's 'ears'. He looked around, but all he could see was pitch blackness.

"Who are you?!" He cried out, trying to sound intimidating even as fear was being chiseled onto his face.

You can't even identify me? Really Jadeite, I'm insulted, even though I really have no desire to talk to you. However, I don't want you to later give me any grief about 'abandoning you' or some such nonsense that you mortals constantly come up with.

"'Abandon me?' What are you talking about? Who are you?" Jadeite asked again, as he began to walk towards what he thought was the true direction of the voice. A disappointed and exhausted sigh was his answer.

Huh. Your memory is even worse then I thought it was. Well, I suppose being under the servitude of that Daughter of Chaos, having an amateur who didn't know what she was doing perform patch-work with your head and THEN being placed inside a stone doesn't really do much for the noggin, does it? Then again, neither does getting knocked out by a punk using a parlor trick. Really, even with your decrease of skills, you should have seen EXACTLY what happened, so don't look to me for answers on THAT note, Jadeite. However, I suppose I shouldn't be too hard on you; even your old flame can't figure it out, and unlike you she spent her years increasing her strength, improving herself. Now THERE'S someone who makes the most of what she gets, a true guardian. To paraphrase the kitty-cat, 'how come the other planets hogged up all the GOOD candidates and WE get all the rejects?!' Honestly, what she saw in you I'll never know…

"I'm….unconscious?" Jadeite asked dumbly. The large voice boomed a 'gawph' in response.

You've GOT to be kidding me. You don't even know you're unconscious? This is beyond sad, Jadeite. No wonder Mamoru only resurrected you to use you as a scapegoat for the oncoming disaster.

Jadeite bristled up at that, "I'm NO man's scapegoat! And Endymion would never do that to me, to any of us!"

Oh he wouldn't, would he? Then he just resurrected you at of the goodness of his heart NOW of all times because…he wanted to grab a pint of alcohol and reminisce with the four of you for old times' sake? You'd think that even after the incident with the giant green column? Besides, I thought that he wasn't Endymion; I thought he was just, 'his recycled soul with a few memories of a specific past-life awakened to correct the Moon's mistakes and rule a monarchy without making a total fool of himself.' Let me tell you, 'OUCH'.

Jadeite turned away, fear now replaced with shame as he fumbled to answer the voice.

"That was…I just said that to…"

You just wanted to get some answers, wanted to make yourself angry at him, and wanted to make him angry with you. I suppose it IS easier to deal with someone who hates you; after all, even if you are the guilty party—which, by the by, you are—you can simply return the hate with more hate. Rage makes the world go round, after all. What an incredible display of logic on your part, Jadeite. A master stroke truly worthy of the First and Last of the Shitennou…and of course, by 'Last,' I mean 'Dead last'.

Alright, that's it.

Jadeite had enough verbal sparring, and he was getting more then a little tired of these accusations against his abilities and his character being hurled at him.

'Verbal sparring?' Don't flatter yourself, Jadeite; 'verbal sparring' indicates that two or more individuals are engaged in witty and/or insulting banter, whereas you have yet to string together more then three complete sentences. Three complete sentences that lack anything in the way of wit, at that.

"You can read my mind?!"

Congratulations; that makes four sentences, but we're still holding out for the wit. Of COURSE I can read your mind; we are IN your mind, fool!! Even if we weren't, I'm a god, so saying I can read your mind is like saying 'hey, the sky's blue when it's day time.'

"A 'god'… Look, I'm getting tired of playing 'mystery voice' inside my head, so tell me who you are and WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE!!! SHOW YOURSELF, YOU COWARD!!"

Gasp, was that a bit of wit I detected? Even if it was, I'm starting to get a little angry that you still don't know who I am; how many hints to I have to drop in order for you to figure it out? As for mistaking my concern with your well-being for cowardice, this is simply my way of making sure you can at least wake up pleasantly, but you were never one for comfort, were you Jadeite? Always did have to make yourself miserable so you could play the emo-loner guy, because you always did enjoy the attention you received from playing up the whole 'mystery' angle the role came with. You wish to see me, Avatar? Very well…

Suddenly, the Jadeite felt as if the darkness was beginning to shrink. A shifting of shadows he sensed rather then saw was forming directly ahead of him, and it began to take the color of blue.

Be warned, Avatar. In the past you were far stronger even as a brat than you are now, and when I showed myself to you then you felt sickly for days. I can't predict what a weakling like you have become will go through!!

The now completely blue column became a raging tornado, forcing Jadeite to avert his eyes. When he was finally able to look back up, he saw to red eyes staring back at him.

And then he heard it.

The cry of the mountains, the rage of the volcanoes, the songs of the plants, the loneliness of the islands, the pride of the continents; they all streamed from this red-eyed mass. He heard them all, screaming in his mind, threatening to overwhelm him, ripping at his conscience to strip him of his individuality and make him yet another voice in their melody-less chorus.

Then the blue tornado took shape, and realization began to creep into Jadeite's features as he finally recognized the now-clearly serpentine figure.

"Seriyuu…"

Crystal Palace: Infirmary

A groan from Jadeite was the only change in his disposition since Mamoru brought him to the medical ward. He remained silent and observing of his Shitennou, while his wife was off talking with Ami, who was standing over Rei's own still form.

"Ami, how are they?"

"Good and bad; and by that I mean, Rei's good, Jadeite's bad," Ami replied.

"Whatever happened at that pentagram, all that it gave Rei was a nasty headache; our monitors detected nothing was implanted into her head, and she didn't stretch her mind too far away. She should wake up in a couple hours, the end of the day at most. I'm not worried about her in the least. As for….Jadeite…though…"

Usagi had to give Ami credit; with barely a stumble, she was treating one of four men she most likely would rather see at the bottom of the ocean like he was just any other patient that required the attention of Crystal Tokyo's foremost medical expert.

"He suffered a severe concussion when he hit his head against the throne room's walls. In addition to having pretty much the exact opposite of a 'soft landing,' he 'traveled' far beyond what he's currently capable of. I thought I told you both," Ami went on, her voice and expression suddenly becoming that of a stern teacher, "that NONE of them were to over-stress themselves with their unique abilities; the bodies simply can't handle it."

Here Usagi grinned a little sheepishly, "Err, things got a little...heated…before we could tell them, and then the big pentagram thingy…well you know how it goes…"

"I'm sure I do," Ami replied with a dry smile. Then her expression grew more solemn.

"In all truth, if Mamoru hadn't brought him here immediately, and you hadn't healed him on the way, then I doubt Jadeite would have survived, or if he did, it would have been as a vegetable. Also, something else concerns me to."

Usagi, too, dropped her grin as she drew closer to Ami, "What is it?"

"When we tried to scan Jadeite to see if anything was implanted in him, something…blocked…our scanners. We couldn't see if his brain was tampered with. Given the circumstances and…well, who it is, you can understand that this raises more then a little concern from me."

"Me as well," Usagi answered.

"Then, would you scan him, my lady, or have Rei do so when she recovers…"

"Absolutely not," Usagi firmly interrupted.

"But, my Lady…"

"Believe me, Ami; I know exactly why you are concerned and what you would have me do, or at least command to have done. It in fact would seem prudent, but…"

Usagi looked at Mamoru, who stood over Jadeite's bed, watching the invalid twist and turn while captive in the land of dreams.

"Mamoru trusts Jadeite, trusts them all, instinctually, implicitly, without question, just like I trust the eight of you. He can not conceive that they would ever do anything against him or his own, at least not willingly. Mamoru has rarely been wrong in the past, so if he trusts them, then I will do no less, and trust Jadeite as well."

"Even if you say that, there is no question that he once served the Enemy," Ami coolly countered, trying desperately to keep the conversation going so as to increase her chances of convincing the Queen.

"Yet we do not know that he did so willingly…I do not think it is possible for anyone to willingly serve any off-shoot of Chaos."

"Beryl did," Ami muttered darkly, her memories of both the past and a past life more then enough to fuel her rage towards that first opponent of the Senshi.

"Sometimes I wonder…" Usagi murmured, more then half to herself.

Ami shook her own head; there was no point in wondering about that now, and it was far more practical to turn their attention back to the present; plenty of problems of the 'now' to deal with.

"Even if that is true, if anything it helps my point; there may be pathways into his mind that this new enemy could use to gain access to his thoughts, and maybe will."

"Ami, that's assuming that this new enemy has anything to do with the past…" Usagi trailed off; in all likelihood, this is exactly what Pluto had warned them about, so maybe there was more credit to Ami's musings then even she realized.

"Evil can always sense taints," Ami answered bitterly, not flinching at the quick glare that was turned on her.

In truth, she was actually a little surprised at herself that she responded thus; that was more of Rei's or Makoto's department.

Okay, so I'm a little bitter. Don't I have a right to be?

As if the fates had conspired to answer her, the infirmary doors opened, and Zoisite stepped in.

Her response left both her and her Queen wide-eyed in shock.

"Oh, shit."

When he entered the infirmary, Zoisite didn't exactly know what he wanted to accomplish; yes, he wanted to find out about Jadeite's condition, but how would entering the infirmary get answers to that? He could just as easily wait outside with Nephrite until Endymion came out to them…

Oh wait, that's right; Nephrite. That's why he was in here as opposed to out there.

Well, one problem solved, now on to the next one.

As he approached Endymion from behind, he grabbed a braid of hair, and began to twirl it between his fingers. Just as he was about to announce his presence, Endymion addressed him without turning his head from Jadeite.

"Nephrite causing trouble?" the lavender-clad King asked in a kindly voice.

Zoisite feigned a shocked gasp.

"How did you know, my lord? My God, you must be psychic. You must be a witch!"

"Yes, Zoisite," Endymion drawled, "I'm a witch, and I've had Congress with the Beast; in exchange for my soul, I was given a pair of ears which have divined that the heavy 'stomp, stomp, stomping' coming from outside must be Nephrite."

Bringing a closed fist to his face, Zoisite let loose a string of giggles. When he looked up and saw Jadeite in bed, he sobered up completely, and questioned his king in a serious tone.

"How is he, Endy?"

"Could be worse," Endymion answered honestly enough.

"Could be better, too, though," Zoisite finished.

They stood there in silence for a while, staring at their fallen comrade, before Zoisite broke the silence with another question.

"My King…Endy…why did you dress us up in these…"

"…Abominations?" Endymion finished tiredly.

Zoisite opened his mouth, then closed it and nodded.

"If you will my lord…these abominations. There has to be more to it then a simple warning from Sailor Pluto."

More to it, indeed, Mamoru thought, I just wish I knew how MUCH more.

They had been sitting around the table, the King, Queen, Princess, Luna, Artemis, and all the Senshi save Michiru and Haruka, who were over-seeing the re-colonization of the planets, eating dinner alone when they could, as was their fashion. When Chibi-Usa had whisked Hotaru away and the others had all left, Setsuna remained behind with Mamoru and Usagi, having already told them that she needed to discuss something with them.

"Well, Setsuna," Mamoru said, "You have our undivided attention, what is it that you wanted."

"My lord and lady, I have a warning…"

"…Wait, wait, wait, Setsuna," Mamoru interrupted, "Is this going to be another one of those cryptic warnings of yours that's so stereotypically vague and riddle-filled that we will have no idea what you are saying, leaving us at a complete loss until the thing you warned us about happens and has the rest of us going, 'Oh that's what she meant; well, wouldn't that have been nice to know before hand.'?"

Setsuna said nothing, and her expression never changed, but Usagi noticed a slight twitch in her eyebrows.

"Because if that's the case, maybe it would be better if you didn't tell us anything and let us be surprised; overall I think it would save us a lot of…"

PHAWP!!

Mamoru glanced down at his right cheek as much as he was able, seeing a bit of raspberry chocolate ice-cream dribbling down his chin. He glared across the table at Setsuna, who was daintily wiping her mouth with a napkin.

For her part, Usagi laughed behind her hand.

Sighing in defeat, Mamoru went on for Setsuna to continue.

"It concerns specters from the past, chiefly, the Shitennou."

Mamoru immediately sat up in his seat and Usagi turned her full attention to the guardian of Time. "What about them?"

"An enemy is coming, both new and old. There will be multiple threats that spring forth from this one, and how you handle the first will determine the outcome of the rest, assuming you beat it."

"What does this have to do with Mamoru's guardians?" Usagi pressed.

"They are integral in this threat, and if you want my advice, then you will begin plans to resurrect them immediately."

That stunned the monarchs into a temporary silence.

"Setsuna, their bodies were either destroyed or at least faded into those stones long ago; and least we forget, they've been dead for centuries. There's no known way to do it, even with the Silver and Golden Crystals," Usagi responded.

"Even if we could find a way to bypass those problems," Endymion went on, "They don't seem to be very interested in resurrection, and even less interested in the past. Believe me, I know, I've talked to them about it."

"I am aware of the situation, however, the best way to meet this threat is to meet them with the Shitennou, and having them constantly reminded about the past; they need to be made aware, and the need to REMEMBER, or our chance of meeting this threat will be slim; this enemy will not move openly against us, or even in semi-secrecy as they have tried in the past; what has been revealed to me is that they will come at us sideways, and try and hit us where we are most vulnerable."

Taking this information in, Mamoru slunk back into his chair. "How would we 'constantly remind them of the past?'"

"If it were up to me," said Setsuna, taking up a bag that she had brought with her, "I'd make them—for the time being—wear these."

Then she held aloft a certain lavender-grey uniform.

Mamoru and Usagi stared at it from across the table, before turning to Setsuna. "You are one cruel woman."

"Whatever the circumstances—even I don't know exactly what happened—they broke the hearts of those I consider to be sisters, so forgive me if I wish to take whatever potshots at them I can," Setsuna answered sweetly.

Packing her stuff away, she got up, bowed and turned to leave. At the door, she called back to Mamoru, her voice laden with silent laughter.

"My King…you still have ice cream on your face."

And then she left.

Usagi laughed again as Mamoru tried to fumble for a napkin and hide his embarrassment. She then grabbed his hand and gave him a feral grin; they'd been trying for a while now, and she was willing to use any excuse.

"Leave it," she said seductively in his ear, "I'll get it off…"

Oohhh yes…NO, n-n-n-n-no, bad Mamoru, BAD!!! You're supposed to be giving Zoisite an answer, not thinking erotic thoughts about your wife!!!

Mamoru was right to be concerned; Zoisite began to think that he wouldn't receive an answer any time soon and sighed. Misinterpreting the silence as uncomfortable for Endymion, Zoisite struggled to find a way to fill it.

"So…errr…how's Jadeite again?"

Somewhat irritated at his own wondering mind, Endymion replied somewhat curtly.

"You've already asked that, Zoisite, and to be frank, Ami knows more then I do at this point. If you wish to know more as well, then you should ask her."

"Good idea," Zoisite said cheerfully at the prospect of being further educated on his friend's condition, and practically skipped over to Serenity and Ami.

It was then that Mamoru realized exactly what he said.

Turning to stop Zoisite, he turned his head away and slapped his hand across his face when he saw that he was almost on top of them.

This is NOT going to be pretty.

When she saw Zoisite walk towards them, Ami mentally widened her eyes in alarm, and desperately chanted in her head a mantra, as if that would somehow stave off the inevitable.

Please don't let him talk to me please don't let him talk to me please don't let him talk to me…

"Ami?"

…shit.

Chiding herself for uttering the second curse of the day, Ami just sighed and looked up at Zoisite, while Usagi graciously stepped aside after receiving a courteous bow from Zoisite.

"How can I help you…Zoisite?"

To say that Zoisite was taken aback by the cold tone that he received would be an understatement; while his memory from back to the Golden Kingdom was as fragmented as anyone's, he could only remember her addressing him in that manner a very few select times; when they were strangers.

Is that what I am to her now…a stranger? No, I can not, WILL not believe that.

"Well," He recovered with closed eyes and a grin, right hand placed on the back of the head, "I was wondering if you could tell me about Jadeite."

Ami clenched her teeth and counted to ten. At least he is still irritating for all the wrong reasons.

"He'll most likely be out for a couple hours, and it was touch and go for a while, but he'll probably make a full recovery, depending on how that bump on his head heals. If you'll pardon me, I must go see Hotaru, as she's been taking care of patients in the other wing by herself; excuse me, Zoisite."

Nephrite didn't stop pacing back and forth before doors of the infirmary, not when Kunzite left after asserting that his presence there would accomplish nothing, not when he blocked Zoisite from laying a hand on his shoulder, not when Zoisite turned and walked into the medical wing.

He did, however, halt when Ami walked briskly out, and Zoisite soon followed behind her. Nephrite folded his arms and stood of to the side, shaking his head and deciding that this was something that Zoisite needed to learn for himself, and he'd best learn it now while it was still early enough in the re-introduction.

Wake up and smell the morning air kid, you heard Endy; the Senshi are our enemies and jail wardens. They are not allies, and certainly not our love interests, so stop wasting your time. It doesn't matter what happened in the past or how many fairy tales you've read, reality will ALWAYS be too much of a bitch for a happy ending.

"Ami…" Zoisite began, but the woman in question quickly cut him off.

"Zoisite, I would thank you to address me as Dr. Mizuno, Sailor Mercury, or if you absolutely must, Lady Mercury, and not to be so familiar. The only reason I'm addressing you as 'Zoisite' is because you have no other title or honorific to go with it, otherwise I would use that instead. I apologize for my abruptness, but I really must be going."

She never even turned around to look at him, merely stopped, said a few words, and walked on.

Ouch; Ice Queen indeed.

Nephrite saw each word slice into Zoisite like a dull knife. The bottom of his eyes began to water, and when she finally walked off, he was silently crying.

"Ami…" he whispered under his breath.

Nephrite, for his part, kept silent; much as he hated seeing Zoisite in pain, he hated comforting people more, and he still thought this was something Zoisite needed to do for himself.

Zoisite took a deep breath, and walked out into the hallway.

He walked in the opposite direction Ami went.

Nephrite nodded his head. Zoi would be alright; he was Shitennou, after all.

As he turned around, he looked through the glass at Jadeite's prone body. He gritted his teeth and growled at an unseen enemy, his fingers desperately trying to grip smooth glass.

They attacked US. Those jerks DARED to attack US. How dare they?!

So caught up in his own musings, he didn't notice that he had company until she made herself known.

"I know you were never too bright, Nephrite, but it DOES say pretty clearly 'Don't touch the glass.'"

Nephrite sighed. He did not need this.

He turned around and saw Makoto.

I REALLY don't need this.

"Endy said that you all would be spying on us. Didn't think you'd come and do it yourself," Nephrite sneered back at Makoto.

In response, the Senshi of Nature just scoffed. "Don't flatter yourself, Nephrite; keeping tabs on you is not a high priority of mine or even a priority at all. I have much better things to do with my time then confirm what I already know; that you are Dark Kingdom scum. And that's King Endymion to you." Makoto added.

Sucking in his breath, he continued to return the woman's glare full on.

"Well, well, it seems that during my time in limbo, you seemed to have forgotten all those old insecurities of yours and grown a backbone. Or have you just gotten better at hiding it?"

He turned his back on her, glancing yet again at his fallen comrade and the figure standing over him.

"How I address my lord, little Senshi, has never been and never will be your concern."

There was anger in this expression, but Makoto was perceptive enough to note that it was not directed towards her.

"What are you planning on doing, Nephrite?"

Nephrite turned back towards Makoto. "Whatever do you mean, Lady Jupiter?" He asked with an infuriatingly cocky look about him, his tone full of mock politeness.

Makoto ignored the bait and pushed on. "I recognize that look, that's the, 'My macho-manly pride has been tarnished and I must avenge its shame' look. What are you planning on doing, stroll directly to Tokyo Tower, politely knock on the door, and nicely ask for a fight?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Nephrite scoffed, walking past her, only to pause at the crosswalk and smirk over his shoulder.

"I'm going to march down to Tokyo Tower, bang on the door, and punch whoever answers in the face. See ya," he finished with a casual wave.

Makoto simply clenched her fists and watched him walk off.

Fine, go and get yourself killed, you cretin, and good riddance.

She turned back to the medical room, where she saw Usagi standing over Rei.

Then she saw Mamoru standing over Jadeite.

She repeatedly glanced to where Nephrite disappeared back to Mamoru, before closing her eyes and stamping her foot.

"DAMNIT!!"

As Zoisite walked down the hallway, he was deep in thought, Ami's words constantly echoing in his mind.

She won't have anything to do with me. I knew that restarting a relationship with her would probably be inadvisable, but I thought we could at least still be friends.

That some wounds went too deep to heal, that there were some hurts there was just no making up for and required the selfless forgiveness of the other party, was an almost foreign concept to Zoisite.

I need to talk to someone; Jadeite and Mamoru are not available, Nephrite probably wouldn't be much help even if I was sure he'd answer, and I have no idea where Kunzite is.

That left a very disheartening zero number of people Zoisite could talk to about this.

No, not just Ami, this whole situation; at least when I was there, I could brush it all off, saying 'look, I am being punished for it, what more do you want?' But now that I have a second chance with not even a reincarnation to separate me from it…I can no longer say that.

So caught up in his musings that he didn't notice when he bumped into the dark haired woman until he heard her fall onto the floor.

"Sorry, I'm so sorry," Zoisite muttered as he offered his hand to her, "I'm such a fool, I should have watched where I was going…"

"It's alright," the woman waived off, "This does happen a depressingly large amount of the time here, though usually I'm not the victim."

"My sympathies," Zoisite said with a smile. Then he looked at the woman in questioning confusion; specifically, he took in the crescent moon on her forehead.

"Do I…know you?" he asked.

The woman smiled cryptically. "I can honestly say that this is the first time we've met in your life."

"Ah! I see, for a minute…" Hey, wait just a second!

"So," the woman went on, "What is your name?"

Zoisite smiled sadly. "The hesitation in your voice says you already know the answer to that."

The woman simply looked him up and down before replying.

"Well, I thought you were one of them, but you don't have three tails, four eyes or breathe fire, so I assumed I was wrong."

"Rumors do get around fast…" Zoisite smiled, masking the hurt at his suspicions on how those rumors may have started.

Wait a second.

"Say that last part again?" Zoisite said, a serious, questioning look replacing the false humor.

Somewhat taken aback, the woman complied. "Three tails, four eyes, breathe fire…"

Fire! Fire!! Oh Zoisite, you stupid, clever little twit!

"There's an old Martian Fire Temple, isn't there?" He asked with new enthusiasm.

"Why, yes, it's at the Celestial Gardens; you continue down this hallway, take your third left from here, and go into the room that smells like a green house; you can't possibly miss it."

Zoisite bolted off like a cartoon character, before returning and giving the woman a swift, innocent peck on the cheek.

"Thank you," and then he was off again.

The woman in question merely brought her hand up to her face and looked at the retreating figure sadly.

You were always the least contemptible of the lot, Zoisite, and the sweetest. What could have possibly made you turn?

With a sigh, Luna turned around and continued on.

Zoisite, on the other hand, was now filled with new hope.

Why didn't you think of this earlier? When Kunzite or any of the others was never around, you could always turn to HER.

Slipping into the gardens, he shocked the mostly female observers as he bounded up the stairs. Almost forgetting to remove his boots, he bounded into the temple, whose priestess and few priests were two huffs short of being offended.

The Chief Assistant Priestess was the one who approached the interloper.

"Can I help you, young man?"

It was then Zoisite realized he might have been too forward.

Slightly daunted, Zoisite bowed at the waist and plunged forward anyway.

"I...uh…am making this request fully aware of how unreasonable it might sound. I would ask for a moment to pray before the Sacred Fire."

The intakes of breath were all Zoisite needed to realize that he probably committed a sacrilege of great proportions. Two formerly unnoticed ravens began to caw at him angrily.

"This is not the time for public prayer, and the Sacred Fire is off limits to anyone save the Head Priestess, her Chief Assistants, and the Fire Keepers," the elderly woman began sternly.

Zoisite closed his eyes in defeat yet again. Blocked from doing even this, then.

"…Is what I am supposed to say, however, it's fairly obvious you are in need of some guidance. I couldn't call myself a true priestess if I didn't offer it to you," she finished kindly, to the shock of several on lookers.

Zoisite brightened up at those words, a disbelieving smile donning his face as he looked up.

"Right this way, young man," the 'elder' woman motioned with a chuckle.

As they walked down the wooden hallway, she initiated conversation. "We don't often get people asking to pray before the Sacred Fire. Are you perchance a follower of Shinto?"

"No; I'm from the Greek-Orthodox sect of Christianity. However, I believe that my…guardian angel has an affinity with fire. I've done things that might have driven her off, so hopefully, I can corner her in a sacred flame where she can not escape my cries for mercy," he finished with a nervous chuckle.

The old woman returned it in kind. "I see. Well, I hope that you do get a chance to talk this guardian angel of yours, but don't let this guilt of yours cloud your ears so; she might be answering you, and you just can't hear her."

With that, she motioned ahead and turned.

Zoisite took a deep breath and walked forwards. Eventually, he came upon a great fire, one that seemed to burn bright without damaging the logs. Getting on his knees and folding his hands, Zoisite lowered his head.

Great Phoenix…Suzaku, please hear my prayer…

Kunzite followed the others to the medical ward, but when he saw that his presence would achieve nothing, not even as a comfort to others, he silently withdrew. Wandering aimlessly about the palace, he began to plan a course of action.

Jadeite will be withdrawn after this and most likely brood. It's probably a good thing that this new enemy is about; otherwise Jadeite might try and leave the palace. I need to get him and the others back into fighting shape, myself as well. We need to strengthen our bodies and powers, then try and re-establish connection with the Beasts.

It was no accident that they were called Shitennou; the very first were all men of Eastern origin, and they claimed their strength, intelligence, and natural abilities were all greatly enhanced by the Four Great Beasts. Kunzite had learned from experience that what they said was partially true. If the Senshi had their planets, then the Shitennou had their own spiritual guardians.

Each guardian, however, meant a different thing to each Shitennou.

To Jadeite, they were gods who were not quite what he thought they would be. To Zoisite, they were their own personal guardian angels to guide the Shitennou in times of need. To Nephrite, they were just a collection of Memories who had, over time, gained the power all such Memories do. To Kunzite, whatever else they might have been, they were simply sources of power and knowledge, to help them perform their duties.

When they came to take him from his orthodox, nomadic tribe, most of the people were in an uproar that the son of a Judge would be taken to be the avatar of some pagan god. The current Judge, however, had at least a rudimentary understanding of the Golden Kingdom; enough to come to a conclusion similar to Nephrite's about the so-called 'gods'. Having placated the people as only he could, he sent the young boy who would come to be called Kunzite off to Elysion.

There, he would be educated about 'the truths of this world,' though to Kunzite it was simply learning what he never before needed to have learned. At the end of every year, he was allowed to visit his family and his tribe, but he gradually stopped taking the option, as it became apparent that they now considered him an 'outsider'.

When he was deemed strong enough to stand before the great Ganbu, he was neither nervous nor eager. He simply was as he always was; ready to do the next thing that was expected of him by his betters.

When the painful process was over and he looked up at the black, hulking figure before him, Kunzite would be less then honest if he didn't admit he was a little…disappointed.

Not quite what you were expecting, boy? Well, when your other choices are a tiger, a dragon, and a phoenix, I suppose that it's only natural to be a little disappointed to have, of all things, a turtle for a guardian beast.

"I don't know enough about turtles to deem whether or not they are a fierce creature," Kunzite said honestly, "For all I know, the creatures who share your shape could have venom or sharp teeth, their appearance designed to fool the enemies-then again, the creatures could be exactly as they apparently look like: slow, stupid, and ugly."

Technically you still haven't seen a turtle, boy. Nonetheless, I'm impressed. You look for things that might be, despite their appearance—and by the way, turtles are EXACTLY what they look like, save for the snapping turtle, but that's pretty much the only exception to the general rule—and you have yet to ask any of the usual questions about the mysteries of the universe and which religion is correct that I normally get.

"Doubtless, one as ancient and powerful as you has answers to all such mysteries, but if it's all the same to you, I'd rather find my own."

The creature laughed; it was a booming laugh filled with the power of the ocean, the chill of ice, and mystery of the darkness.

I was right about you, boy; you ARE unique, even among this extraordinarily unique bunch. Even now as young boys, the strength of all four of you approaches that of the first Shitennou, who till now were hailed as the strongest, and this without us to enhance your powers, or your natural ones fully matured. And you are the strongest of them, the one selected to be the leader. I foresee greatness in all of you, but you just might achieve immortality. It makes me wonder about this young prince who is close to your own age, and what great things we can expect from him.

"Immortality..." Kunzite mused. Realizing that he had no idea where he was, he looked around and almost laughed at the irony; he was in an armory museum, filled with the relics of ancient warriors from the past, from armor to camouflage uniforms.

Walking up to a suit of Roman armor, he drew forth the blade that at one time was wielded by those who his people first hailed as saviors and allies, and then as oppressors and jail-keepers.

"That's right," he said aloud, no one listening to him, "I did achieve immortality, Ganbu. Your expectations, however, were a bit low; we ALL achieved it; the infamy that treason grants. Strange how such a realization makes a pointed blade look inviting, no matter what your spiritual thoughts are on suicide."

He held the blade upside down, over his head with his eyes closed.

Perhaps, if it was as Endymion wished for him to say, that the Shitennou were captured, tortured, and then brainwashed, then perhaps Kunzite would never even consider it his own fault save for being too weak to resist.

However, though his memories incomplete like everyone else's, Kunzite knew at least that much; he knew what really happened on that black day.

Shame could not describe what he felt towards it.

I made the only choice I could, the only option that was left to me.

He tried to make it sound like a statement of fact, but even in his own head, it sounded like a petty excuse.

Tokyo Tower: Inside the Barrier

"Behold my Master, and your benefactor; Metallia."

The reactions were fierce and perhaps to be expected.

Nekome immediately stood up, his bow at the ready, unsure with whether he wanted to skewer Zetsubou or Metallia first. Marionette solved the dilemma for him by athletically leaping over the table and landing behind Zetsubou, daggers produced from nowhere pressing close enough on Zetsubou's neck to draw blood. Moments later, Vlad'ar's strange blade was at Zetsubou's throat as well. Ohanzee took a fighting stance beside Nekome, whose arrow was now firmly pointed at Metallia. Ohanzee drew no weapon, but he looked prepared to fight, and was holding a strange glowing object in his hand.

Not quite what you were expecting, boys?

Nekome shuddered in spite of himself; his pride was relieved that he saw everyone else save Zetsubou react much the same. He could literally feel this thing's hatred, its anger towards all that stood against it.

"What the hell is this, Zetsubou?" Vlad'ar demanded. "We have all gathered to unite against a common foe, and you bring their….god….down upon us!!"

"There's no such thing as 'god.'" Nekome sneered, more at Metallia then Vlad'ar, "Only humans, and monsters!!"

"Spiritual discussions aside," Ohanzee chimed in; his voice filled with no less venom then his compatriots, "Why should we ally with the one who is—forgive me for speaking for you on this, gentlemen—the root cause of our grievances?"

Marionette remained uncharacteristically silent, but he dug his daggers in a little further to emphasis the point, and perhaps to prompt Zetsubou to speak.

Zetsubou, for his part, simply glanced at down at the weapons threatening his life before glancing up at his master.

"'Why should you,' you ask? I ask you in return, 'how can you afford not to?'"

That significantly confused them all, causing them each to take a step back.

"What do you mean?" Vlad'ar questioned with a glare.

Zetsubou stood up and turned to face them. "You've waited centuries beyond centuries for them to be brought back to life, hoping against hope that somehow, someway, they would come again. They did, and to the disappointment of all four of you, you missed them."

"Get to the point!" Nekome growled out.

Zetsubou continued on, as if he'd never been interrupted. He walked over to the table where he was originally seated, and held his hand over it.

"Now they've been resurrected again," he went on softly, "Those that cursed you, hurt you, and in some cases, made you," four images arose like tainted water from underneath his hand, four very familiar images.

"The Shitennou, that is."

"Maybe you each have personal reasons for wishing to place all the blame for what they did at Metallia's feet. It does make for a good story, doesn't it? 'The brave Shitennou, trying to allow their master to escape,' or perhaps the less emotional, more noble 'protect the Golden Kingdom down to the last man,' or—this last one is my personal favorite—'prevent their lady loves from being assimilated into Shadow,' no offense intended Ohanzee.

"You can choose to believe any one of those fanciful tales if it makes you feel better, or you can believe that Metallia simply brought out what was always there, and gave them the opportunity they were always searching for. In your hearts, each of you knows which is true."

He paused at this point, looking around at the now-unsure expressions dawning on their faces; where once firm resolve stood, now shaky doubt had replaced.

Now for the gamble, he thought.

"If, however, you are unable to put aside illusions of morality and side with my master, then there are no hard feelings; you may leave, and the marks on your hands will fade. Then you all can pursue vengeance in whatever way you truly wish."

WHAT ARE YOU DOING, ZETSUBOU!!!!!?????

Patience, master, Zetsubou responded, thanking whatever fates inspired Metallia to at least retain enough rationality to send the message mentally instead of aloud, I am simply…calling their bluff.

And if they call YOUR bluff?!

Then I shall kill them and we go on to the contingency plan, though I agree its best to use them for the intended results.

"Yes, free to pursue it as you wish, but keep in mind one thing; they are in the palace, and there, they are protected—however inadvertently—by entire armies, the dreaded Elite, and least we forget, at least four, possibly eight women who could easily mop the floor with the lot of you. And after that, it get's even better; a king and queen, each with enough power to reverse death itself, with whom your targets are in at least enough favor to warrant this second rebirth in the first place.

"So I suppose I should say, 'feel free to pursue your vengeance, knowing it to be a doomed course from the outset.' Without my master to counter the Silver and Golden Crystals, and without my leadership to keep the Elite, Senshi, and all others second-guessing at who the real enemy is, you will never get within breathing distance of your targets without being interrupted."

He withdrew his hand, and the images faded away.

"I suggest you take a few moments to think about it, but please decide before you leave."

He turned around and walked up to a wall; waving his hand in front of it, a large, Renaissance-style painting of a red-haired, onyx-eyed woman clutching a scepter and giving any viewers a cruel smile appeared. Holding his hands behind his back, he stared at the painting, completely ignoring the four now-dumbfounded compatriots.

They looked at each other to Zetsubou. Then, one by one, they left the room and took Zetsubou's advice.

Tokyo Tower: Outside the Barrier

Despite his demeanor, Nephrite rarely used the direct approach unless he was extremely confident or extremely angry. Normally, he'd sit back and let his shadow do the work for him, despite the drawback of it getting weaker the farther and longer it was completely separated from him.

In this situation, it wasn't really all that difficult to determine which Nephrite was feeling now.

As he approached the field, he looked it up and down before throwing back his head and roaring out a challenge.

"Come out, you cowards! You strike at a man and you don't follow through, but retreat?! You start a fight, than run away?! Come OUT!!"

At the cry of 'out,' his shadow began to shift. It was fading twilight, mere minutes before darkness fell on the city like a veil of black. However, there was light enough for what Nephrite had in mind.

Holding out his right hand, he spread his fingers apart and gave a shout. The shadow suddenly lunged forward, stretching itself at great speed; as it moved, rocks and dirt were being kicked up. The shadow 'smashed' into the barrier; the sudden stop kicking up a large cloud of dust.

"How's that," Nephrite cried gleefully, his mouth allowing a self-assured smile.

The dust settled, and the smoke disappeared, taking Nephrite's smile with it.

From his feet to the edge of the barrier, a fine cut two feet deep and only two inches long at the widest had damaged the ground.

The barrier itself displayed not even so much as a ripple.

Nephrite stared at the barrier in complete and utter disbelief, his jaw hanging open.

Impossible; there should be a sizable hole in that thing!!

Continuing to look at the undamaged obstruction, Nephrite's breathing became ragged, and his hand began to shake; in his mind, criticisms and disbeliefs ranging from long ago to only hours before were suddenly brought to the front of recollection.

Phew!! In over ten generations of pathetic Avatars, you are the most pitiful. How come Ganbu hogs up all the strong ones, Suzaku all the smart ones, Seriyuu all the subtle, crafty ones and I get all the REJECTS?!

"Shut up, you stupid tiger…"

I didn't see him move, I didn't even see him stand up. I blinked, and he was gone. That's impossible.

"…that's because he has the Golden Crystal; it's not because I'm…."

Weak; I was too weak to do anything. Why am I so weak?

"Shut up…"

Nephrite clenched and grinded his teeth together; his shaking hand now became a shaking fist.

"SHUT UP!"

He took one step forward; two, then three, then four. The time between each step shortened, until finally he was in a full-fledged run towards the magic shield surrounding Tokyo Tower.

"SHUT UP!!!!"

With this final cry towards his guilt, his shame, he wildly struck at the barrier; each blow landing in a different place, each with a different amount of force behind it.

"SHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUP!!! Do you think we're WEAK!?! That we aren't WORTH another blow!!!?!! Is that why you struck at my friend and then casually walked here, because you thought any way the Shitennou retaliated was beneath your notice!?!! IS THAT WHAT YOU THINK!!!?!"

He continued to rail, he continued to strike; in the end, it didn't matter.

No one came out to answer him.

Tokyo Tower: Inside the Barrier

Ohanzee walked out, deep in thought, his eyes downcast towards his feet.

He leaned against one of the malformed pillars that so vaguely resembled the confiscated construct that he and his new associates now occupied. He closed his eyes and reflected.

Among the four of them, Ohanzee had perhaps the greatest hurdle to leap in order to ally himself with Metallia; there were so many parallels between the Lakota religion and the rich history of the Golden, Silver and Crystal Kingdoms that Ohanzee long since considered and told of them as interchangeable.

Can I really do it? Can I ally with the former patron of that two-faced seductress, Anog Ite, and go up against Wi and the Moon? I already know I will fail if I go up against them alone; what can man do against the incarnation of gods? That would require craftiness on par with Iktomi. Perhaps taking the part of Metallia would be something Iktomi would do… no, even he would hesitate before allying himself with that…that thing.

I can tell, just by looking at It; that thing parading itself as a woman would destroy this 'Wakan' kingdom in a vein effort to sate her insatiable rage. Also, that Zetsubou…

Ever since I first met him, I thought there was something wrong with him; a churning of something ominous, something biding its time, waiting to spring out. I finally figured it out, finally put together what it is I fear about him.

He's like Iya, the Lord of the Storms.

He'll consume humans everywhere, and herald a storm through which this 'center' is the only place of reprieve. He'll bring fire and thunder and death, and he will do it without any evil or malevolent intent; it is merely his duty, one that only he can perform and thus does. The most dangerous type of man, a 'true believer' as some might say.

The boy said it himself; by helping me they further their plans, thus by extension by allying with them, I am bringing about whatever apocalyptic doom they have in store for this place.

That settles it, then; I cannot…

You cannot what?!

Ohanzee instinctually looked up, though he knew he wouldn't see anyone.

You promised us you'd take responsibility, shadow-caster!! You promised us revenge against HIM!!!!

It was one thought, yet it was spoken with the wailing of many voices; men, women and children were all crying out to him, discernable only because they spoke with the same words, at the same time.

How many of us faded from existence in order to prolong your existence, your vitality? You think taking the Neo-Queen's gift of prolonged life would placate us because of an eased burden!? You've stalled long enough, citing that HE was alive yet not of this world, and thus we could do nothing. Well now he's alive, he's of this world, so live up to your promise, Shaman!! We demand that you keep your word!!

"So you would sacrifice an entire city, a bastion of hope and light, just to kill one corrupt soul?" Ohanzee asked, disgust and disappointment leaking out of his voice.

Don't you dare patronize US, priest!!! How long have we suffered, lingered, till your own guilt drew us to you? Besides, all of us, even you, know what will happen if he's allowed to remain; he'll cause the destruction of this city from within, and it will slowly decay and cripple this 'paradise.' Even if it didn't, we wouldn't care. We want him dead!! Do you hear us? We want him to suffer, and then WE WANT HIM TO DIE!!!

Ohanzee went reeling from the hatred they gave off, and clutched at his head. Fortunately, this was the max of their abilities to launch an attack.

And then he saw him.

Saw their target, pounding away at the shield as if brute physical force could possibly bring the surrounding field down.

He gave a grim smile at the nostalgia the man's behavior brought, and then turned back to the voices.

"It looks like Skan, Creator of Life, has conspired to make our argument a completely moot point, provided of course, that you are willing to only give out a more diminutive amount of 'suffering' then your imaginations have provided for."

We are…..

Marionette had managed to leap about on to one of the higher beams on their mockery of Tokyo Tower, seeking seclusion like the others, as if answers that he had no knowledge of would somehow spring forth from solitary surroundings.

He reached into one of his many pockets, and took out a slinky; playing with it, shifting the rings from one hand to the other, Marionette began to do some thinking of his own.

He was on a stage, using slow, deliberate movements to tell his story. The audience laughed and applauded whenever appropriate, for this was a time and culture when subtleties were appreciated, and overt displays of ability at inappropriate times seen as wasteful and boastful.

When he was done, no one threw coins or flowers at him; they merely politely applauded again, and bowed their heads at the masterful performance; another subtlety, one that dealt with respect. He returned their bow and turned away, going behind the curtain. There was a woman there. She simply smiled and nodded her head at him. He repeated her gesture.

They left together, taking a small carriage towards their apartments. Paying their driver his fair, and went inside the apartments. Two boys, neither even so much as ten, rushed toward them, stopped fifteen feet short, and bowed. The obvious couple bowed back.

Formalities observed, the children rushed into the waiting arms of their parents.

The evening meal was eaten in ritual silence, the standard fair of the day; rice, fish, water and wine.

He looked at all three; sons and wife. He closed his eyes and smiled. Life was good.

Strange, though. It was the middle of fall, and shouldn't be so hot. What was that odd burning smell…?

His eyes widened in realization.

He saw all three, naked, slowly backing away from him, though their feet never touched the floor. There was a fire in their flesh, and tears running down their eyes, though they never cried out. Gasping he tried to get up and go after them, only to be brought back down to his knees. He looked around in horror, seeing that he was restrained with some kind of rope, and lacked anything in the way of clothing.

He saw them being burned as they continued to get farther and farther away from him, eventually crumbling to ash.

"ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

His scream contained nothing but anguish, and yet was a poor vessel to pour out his grief.

"Why, why did you do this," he begged an unseen spectator.

"Because I can…"

SNAP!

Marionette looked down at his slinky. Through the eye-holes of his mask, he observed that he snapped it in half. The sudden disjointing had cut a deep gash into both of his gloved hands.

He sighed, though not because of the pain, and continued to think even as he produced a few ribbons and wrapped them around his wounds.

There is little point in wondering about who wrote the script; everyone thinks that the author is an ass-hole, and the director an even bigger one. Even so, this is a part that you've wanted to play for a very, very long time; and as the saying goes…

Marionette leaped off the ledge, plummeting to the ground below.

The show must go on.

Vlad'ar walked out part of the way with Ohanzee, than when they stepped out into the open, they each went their separate ways.

When he was finally alone, he removed his right glove and looked at his hand. His eyes, though, weren't for the pentagram marking that suddenly came alive so close to the barrier. They were for the blue skin, the visible muscles and ligaments, the cables that carried the vital fluids throughout his body with far greater efficiency then either veins or arteries. His eyes were for the gold diamonds that had been melded into his flesh, the small jewel-like circlets they encased.

As always, staring at his odd body filled his mind with both anger and resentment.

Vlad'ar had a unique trait when it came to his pain. For the other three, theirs was only on their hearts and minds. Vlad'ar carried that pain on his body as well.

"So, it comes full circle," he said aloud, "I have been given the opportunity to join the same devil you did, so I can wreck your life just like you wrecked mine. I guess now, all I can say is, 'is my hate strong enough to willingly take the devil's fruit?' What would you have done in my position, teacher?"

He was on a table, strapped spread-eagle and naked. How long had it been? That's right, three days.

Three days?

It seemed more like three ages.

He whimpered as he heard the door open, his will having been broken in the afternoon of the second day.

"It's very frustrating," the feared yet child-like voice huffed, "I've been told that by the Lady Beryl that I must get results in soon, otherwise I shall have concede and make more of those—even I must confess, whatever my preferences—brilliant hybrids of yours.

"It's very frustrating," he said again as he made a cut into Vlad'ar's flesh, the whimpering hurt ignored with the objectivity of a dedicated scientist, "Because I see that my lady is suffering from the same regrettable yet understandable lack of vision that you had; too awed by the immediate beauty of your creations. Really, there's no appreciation for…subtlety, in this outfit."

"True, your hybrids are most beautiful; crossing the essence of animals and humans to create super-beings, they would make awesome foot soldiers. However, there is more potential in an average human body then we have yet to realize; the abilities one could have with my upgrades may be less FLASHY, but in the end it will be more USEFUL, as you will help me demonstrate.

"You see," he went on, as he began to remove a vein, "as I have tried to tell you time and time again, those hybrids, powerful as they are, can only fight like an instinctual animal; they can only fight using tooth and claw. If they served as foot soldiers for the invasion of the Moon, they'd be able to cause damage…and little else. They couldn't occupy areas, hold off enemy advances, respond to new threats, and unless myself or my compatriots were looking over their shoulders the entire time, then they'd go off and do whatever their baser instincts demanded of them.

"An empowered human, however, won't fall prey to that. Their attacks may be 'less-powerful' but in exchange they'll be more 'well-placed'. Learn this lesson well, my young student; a weaker, yet well-placed blow can cause more damage then a stronger, direct blow.

"But still," the voice now took a worried tone, one of fear; not fear of safety, but fear of being denied, "What if she observes but refuses to see? Her highness was never one to appreciate subtleties; merely using them as unpleasant necessities. She has too rich an appreciation for raw power, I think.

"You'll help me, won't you Vlad'ar?"

A hand was laid across his cheek, and he couldn't help but feel slightly revolted as he shivered from the touch…

Vlad'ar's eyes shut open; he never even realized that he closed them.

"Yes," he decided, "Yes I can do it. What difference does it make if the devil itself is the one offering me fruit from the Tree of Vengeance? In the end, I had made up my mind centuries ago to take it."

He stood up and placed his glove on, walking back towards the room.

"If I can stand before you with my hate, and you recognizing it as such, then that will be enough…"

Nekome didn't go very far; just outside the door. He stared hard at the floor and clenched his hands, as if trying to squeeze a resolution out of them.

His thoughts were occupied along the same lines as his fellow 'guests'; trying to reconcile allying himself with his target's own demon-god. He didn't want to follow in that man's, footsteps; he'd had enough of trying to do that to last all of his life-times.

As the younger son of a great man, it was expected that he would make some accounting of himself, no matter how small. As such, he was given everything his older twin brother was given for those eleven years they were a family, and he came up, to say the least, sorely lacking.

When it came to education, his brother studied circles around him. When it came to the weapon training that was started so early in a desert with harsh conditions and even harsher bandits, his brother left him quite literally in the dust.

When it came to grieving for their deceased parents, his brother was silently applauded for how appropriately he held in his unhappiness while still making it plain that he was sincerely paying his respects to the dead. He, on the other hand, was criticized with whispers about how much of a scene his tears made.

And when the demon threat turned Its attention towards their large tribe, they criticized him in a louder voice with whatever time they had left for not doing what his father and brother could have done.

Of course, that last one ended up being a mute point…

"Foolish brother; are you sad? Enraged? Do you desire to kill me? How useless. Even if you had the ability, your will is too weak. That is your one great sin, brother; your weakness of belief. Look around you whenever you are able; all this death, all our tribes secrets and teachings, they are gone forever because I brought the sword to these fools, all because they would not bow before a greater power among them to garner the favor of a greater power that was merely within them.

"But it was you, their leader, who was unable to protect them, who was unable to stop me. And why were you unable to stop me? Because all your resentful life, for whatever reason, you never entertained the notion that you just might be able to catch up to me, that you just might surpass me.

"They are dead because I killed them; they died because you are weak."

KA-BOOM!!!

Nekome stared at the large sized hole he had created in the wall, trying to catch his breath.

Drip, drip

He looked at his hands and smirked; during his musings he had clenched them so hard that his fingernails had cut into his palms.

The smirk faded as he glanced over his shoulder at the awaiting chamber. Without anymore hesitation, he turned and walked in.

Ach-bechor, I shall take the same road you did, but I won't follow your path, the path of giving glory to that thing; when you have been utterly destroyed, 'she' and her pet will soon follow you after.

Tokyo Tower: Outside the Barrier

Nephrite had finally grown tired of hitting on the barrier. Slightly winded, he placed a hand against it as he bent over, eyes closed, panting at his shame.

In this highly vulnerable position, Nephrite had no idea that he was now being stalked…

Ohanzee crept silently towards Nephrite, though it was more out of force of habit than actual effect; for although he could clearly see and hear Nephrite through the slight green tint, Ohanzee knew that Nephrite could neither see nor hear nor even sense him.

He was getting closer now; oh so close. Ohanzee decided he'd get a foot out—more then enough for what he had intended—and then use his particular talents to teleport behind Nephrite. It would shock him enough to stifle whatever resistance he might give, and then he'd be at Ohanzee's mercy…

Nephrite continued to breathe deeply when suddenly he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Rocketing back to an upright position he whirled around to face whatever threat had sent his hair on end.

To say he was shocked at the interloper would be a gross understatement.

"Y-you…" he stuttered stupidly.

"Me," the intruder replied. "So, do you feel big enough of an idiot to stop yet, or shall I come back later when you're finished?"

Ohanzee froze right at the edge as he looked at this newly arrival, only to groan and instinctively slink back.

Sailor Jupiter had come.

Impossible; why is she here!?

Staring at the two figures beginning to exchange heated words, Ohanzee turned his head as Zetsubou's prophetic warning came back to him.

"…you will never get within breathing distance of your targets without being interrupted."

With a regretful sigh, Ohanzee turned around, and walked back to the tower.

"Why are you here?" Nephrite snarled.

Makoto, donning the garb of a Sailor Senshi, scoffed even as she kept a wary eye out for any would-be attackers.

"Just like you, Nephrite; not 'thanks for coming even if I am a self-important ass', not even an 'I'm glad you're here to save my life in case I get attacked'. No, it's 'why are you getting in my way, little girl'."

Now it was Nephrite's turn to scoff.

"'Save my life?' I have fought in more battles, participated in more wars and won more duels then you have ever heard of in both life times, let alone seen, and you are saving me?"

"Why, yes," Jupiter answered as sweetly as possible, the sarcasm dripping from her every pore, "That's exactly what I mean."

Nephrite's eyes widened as he casually—and, some strategists would say, stupidly—propped his back against green barrier.

"Alright, enlighten me; how, exactly, are you saving my life?"

Sailor Jupiter frowned at this lackadaisical move on Nephrite's part. Rather then waste time arguing with him, she calmly walked over, gripped him by the arm, and before he could protest or demand what she was doing, threw the infuriating man over her shoulder.

Wham!

"Ow," Nephrite whimpered from his back. Rolling over, he glared up at the brunette. Hands on hips, she was noticeably standing so that her back was not to the barrier.

"Like that," she said with probably a little more smugness then the situation called for.

Nephrite, being Nephrite, was not amused in the least.

"That," he whispered dangerously, "Was not very nice."

Jupiter, for her part, was hardly intimidated, or even wary of retaliation.

"Call me in a thousand years when I might give a damn."

Getting to his feet, Nephrite decided he had more then enough of this. He made to pass Jupiter, but the sinewy woman blocked his way.

"Get out of my way, Makoto." His voice was once again only barely above a whisper, emphasizing her current name as though to say he wouldn't go easy with her if she wouldn't move.

"Only if you can make me," she replied back, her voice of even volume with his, and even intent to match.

Nephrite sighed and with almost insulting slowness, made to grab for her shoulder. How he found himself hunched over with the same arm twisted behind his back was a question he'd ask himself in the many years to come.

"Gah!"

Jupiter, as if to show how low her concern was, gave the arm another good twist.

"Go back to the palace, Nephrite, or you'll get a small taste of what would have happened to you if you had taken another step towards their Majesties."

Nephrite's eyes widened in shock before he smirked, understanding exactly what that meant.

"I thought you had better things to do then watch over us, Thunder Bitch."

I didn't sense them; none of us did. A simple decline in our own skills isn't enough to explain this. Just how much stronger have they…?

In spite of herself, or maybe because of, Jupiter blushed, turning her head away to avoid showing it.

"That…I…that situation was completely…"

Now!!!

As he had implied earlier, Nephrite had been involved in hundreds, perhaps thousands of fights, from the glorified ones baring the grandiose titles of wars or battles, to the downplayed ones with diminishing titles such as skirmishes and assassinations. Whatever his body, whatever the condition of his powers, nothing could ever take away that experience, and what that experience taught. Among those many lessons, always, always always always take advantage of the enemy's openings, and fair-play be damned.

Hand balled into a fist, Nephrite went for an uppercut. Fully expecting to meet skin and jawbone, he was suitably surprised when he hit nothing but air, and outright shocked when an elbow was planted into his stomach.

Sinking to his knees in a coughing fit, Nephrite looked down in surprise at the sight of his own blood covering the ground; another cough revealed just where it came from.

"Do you see now, the difference in our abilities?" Jupiter asked. "This wasn't about beating you senseless—though that was a fun bonus—this was about making a point; there is no longer any comparison between the Shitennou and the Senshi. We have surpassed our old limits, forced to become so much stronger to better serve our subordinates, our friends, and our leaders, so much so that our old selves would seem pathetic in comparison. But if we had to become this much stronger, how powerful were our enemies to force us thus? And if they've grown progressively stronger each time, how strong must they be?"

Tilting her head, Nephrite didn't need to turn his to know where she was motioning.

"Just look at Rei and Jadeite! If that isn't a good indicator of what is going to happen to you, I don't know what is. Face it Nephrite, you're too weak to deal with this threat."

Nephrite had been growing increasingly angry at Jupiter's tirade, but the 'weak' comment was the straw that broke the proverbial camel's back.

"HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA….gurgle!"

Given how the 'fight' had gone up until now, Nephrite should have hardly been surprised that instead of his hands around her throat, Jupiter's knee sunk into his poor stomach.

With a grunt of disgust, Jupiter flicked him off, sending Nephrite on his back for the second time that night. Spinning on her heel, she made sure her back was to him before continuing on.

"I'm leaving; it's obvious that you won't listen, and the only way you're going to leave is on your own, or if I knock you out and drag you back to the palace, which is something I am emphatically not doing."

Taking a few steps forward, Jupiter stopped to give Nephrite one last parting shot.

"Endymion asked us to help you seek out redemption, but frankly that hardly appealed to any of us. Even if it was possible for a snake like you to redeem himself I can tell you right now, it won't be through fighting."

Nephrite laughed as he propped himself up on an elbow.

"Maybe you can't remember, but unlike you and yours, I wasn't a figurehead first and warrior second; I was a warrior always, who happened to have some responsibility as a leader. Fighting's all I know, all I ever needed to know."

"Then get another damn hobby," Jupiter snapped. With that, she walked off.

Nephrite watched her walk off while wiping the last of the blood from his mouth.

"I used to have one…" Nephrite bitterly retorted at her retreating figure.

Nephrite didn't know how long he sat there; all he knew was that eventually, he stood up and left.

Mistress…

"Go away," Rei muttered, "I want to sleep for a little longer…"

Mistress…

"Don't make me go, Grandpa; not today."

YOUNG LADY, GET UP THIS MINUTE!!!

Rei immediately bolted, finding herself in the medical wing; alone save for a single unconscious figure. Closer scrutiny gave her reason to look the other way.

"What is it, Phobos?"

One of them is here.

Rei bolted up furiously.

"Which one, and who let him in?!"

My lady…

"Well, we'll see just what he thinks he's doing, and then I'll…"

All well and good, my lady; but first, you may want to put some clothes on; dignity of the High Priestess and all. You have the time; Deimos is keeping an eye on him.

Blushing at the hidden laughter in the voice, Rei, looked down to find herself dressed in a…very, very revealing hospital gown. Looking around, she thankfully saw neatly folded robes of her station, as well as a pair of ceremonial slippers.

Yet even through all the blushing, the hurried dressing and the irritated grunts at Phobos' laughter, Rei's eyes never left Jadeite's prone form.

She was out in five minutes; four minutes too long for Rei's taste.

The Chief Assistant Priestess, Sister Himiko, knew that there would be a lot of explaining to do if the young man hadn't finished by the time the High Priestess had recovered.

She didn't think that she would have to start thinking of epitaphs as well.

"High Priestess! Thank the gods that you are…"

"Where is he?! Who let him in here?!" She all but snarled.

Himiko was always shocked at this side of the head of the Temple. It was during moments like this that, despite her outward appearance, Rei Hino was by far the elder woman by many centuries. With that came a natural seniority about her that was…difficult to not bend to.

Yet for the sake of that lost-looking young man, try Himiko would.

"Ah, you mean that poor soul who came in a few hours ago? Pitiable man, I should think we ought to let him finish his business."

"If his 'god' or 'spirit' or whatever he was trying to talk to hasn't answered him now, it's not going to," Rei declared.

"It is against the rules for any to approach the fire in the first place, Himiko; since I can't seem to trust you to enforce the rules, I will have to do so myself."

Himiko narrowed her eyes, both at the accusation and the lack of concern in Rei's voice.

This is beyond mere annoyance at disregard for rules; it's almost like she has a personal vendetta against the boy. Does she know him? How did she know in the first place?

Like many, Himiko was unaware of the exact nature of Rei's 'pets', but that was neither here nor there. Himiko had resolved to help that boy, so she would buy him whatever time she could.

Besides, High Priestess she may be, older she most certainly was, but there was just something that didn't sit right with Himiko to be talked down like that by someone who looked young enough to be her daughter…

"A moment, High Priestess," Himiko called out, gently laying a hand on Rei's shoulder.

Sighing, Rei stopped and looked back. "What is it now, Himiko?"

Bowing, Himiko resumed speaking with hidden mirth.

"You are right; I apologize most humbly for my lack of regard to the rules. In the future, I shall be far more diligent in their observation."

Rei nodded. "Very good; then I shall…"

"Wait just a minute, High Priestess."

Rei was shocked that not only was she being stopped, but guided by the hand away from the fire and toward several of the attendants.

"This means," Himiko went on, "That I shall be enforcing all the rules."

Rei was confused as to what that meant until Himiko gently but firmly pushed her down, and felt two attendants grab her ankles.

"W-wait a minute," Rei cried out as she felt her slippers being removed, "T-there's time enough for this later. That man is…"

"Going nowhere," Himiko replied as she began to undress an only half-struggling Rei, "You know that this is the only way in and out. Besides," she continued as she raised one of Rei's arms with one hand and held a soapy brush in the other, "'how can someone approach the sacred fire with a pure soul if their body is covered in filth?'"

Giving Himiko a look that promised revenge in spades, all Rei could do to save face was make one, and to 'grit and bare it'. That resolve didn't stop her toes from curling in anticipation as she saw the brushes begin to descend…

It's hopeless, Zoisite sighed for the fifth time.

In the many hours, he had constantly asked, searched, and probed the Sacred Fire on what was becoming increasingly obvious to be the off-chance his angel was awaiting to hear his requests. There was a brief time that he thought Suzaku would answer, but then he realized it was just a young woman laughing her head off. A pretty laugh, to be sure, but Zoisite was annoyed that someone was doing so quite loudly; it was a temple, after all.

You promised, Zoisite said in an almost petulant, child-like accusation, you promised you'd be there if I sought you out.

Zoisite was aware of how he sounded, but he was legitimately hurt that the owner of a kindly, feminine yet powerful voice had apparently deemed him unworthy to keep promises too:

When you find yourself in trouble, young Avatar, seek me out in the flames, I will always be there for you, sweet child; always.

I need you; I'm seeking you; why aren't you here?

"Why are you here?"

Zoisite spun around to see a red-cheeked, teary-eyed Rei Hino, huffing and trying to look stern, succeeding only in looking like she had been put through the ringer.

"Ms. Hino, you're awake!!"

Zoisite leaped to his feet in delight, taking a few steps forward before closing his eyes and smiling.

Rei's own eyes widened in shock at how easily her current name came from Zoisite's lips.

"Oro, were you crying?"

"None of your business," Rei stammered out too quickly and too defensively.

"Sorry," Zoisite said without missing a beat. "I'm glad to see you are okay, Ms. Hino."

Rei blinked at Zoisite. Is he…serious? But…he's…

A sudden thought occurred to Zoisite.

"Ms. Hino, if you're awake, is Jadeite…"

Rei's eyes narrowed, and her stern expression returned.

Whoops, Zoisite mentally faltered.

"Why are you here, Zoisite?" Rei asked again, this time with far more authority then before.

Never one to hide anything, Zoisite straight-forwardly told her.

"I was trying to seek guidance from my…guardian angel. She has an affinity with fire." Zoisite's shoulders slumped as he confessed the rest of the story.

"Unfortunately, it seems that she is…too busy to answer me right now."

His word play didn't fool Rei for even a minute.

Abandoned; the little twit has the nerve to feel 'abandoned' after all he's done.

"Tell me, Zoisite," she said as she walked past him, clasped her hands and knelt before the fire, never once looking directly at him, "How can anyone 'abandon' you"—she didn't need to look at Zoisite to know he flinched—"when you were the one who threw them away in the first place?"

Zoisite stuttered. "I…"

I…throw away? I would never…

But you did.

Ignoring this foreign accusation, Zoisite took a pleading tone with Rei.

"Wh-what do you mean, Ms. Hino?"

Rei never turned around, didn't even speak to him again, but her very posture was a command.

Leave.

Leave he did, never noticing a sighing Himiko as he rushed out.

I…threw her away?

Himiko shook her head at Zoisite's retreating figure as she closed the temple doors.

CLANK!

Kunzite thrust the short sword into the ground.

"Humph," he grunted before stepping back.

What will that accomplish? It won't change anything save make things more difficult, and they are difficult enough as it is.

"Well, I'm glad you decided not to do that," said a masculine voice from the shadows, "That blade isn't exactly sharp; would have been a very nasty way to go. Not to mention the investigations and the closing of the room off and…urgh."

Kunzite started.

Someone was in here with me? And I never noticed?

Turning around, he saw a man dressed in white armor; a yellow half-sun, half-moon adorned his chest plate, and orange jewels had been embedded on the spiky shoulder pads. Hiding his legs as a yellow-orange skirt and on his bare right arm was a gold, unadorned armlet, and a cape the same color as his skirt was pushed back past the shoulder guards.

His hair was long and dark, his eyes sky blue, and his smile warm, inviting and friendly.

"I'm surprised," Kunzite said, "I didn't think anyone could get this close to me without my being aware of them; I must have slipped more then I thought."

The stranger shook his head.

"Your ki's range is very short; I know hopeless novices who have wider rangers then you do."

"Considering you're talking to a man who almost committed suicide, that's not exactly emotionally comforting."

"Sorry, when you're a commander, you learn to be brutally honest, to the annoyance of even those around you that you can call friends."

"I sympathize."

"Besides," the man went on, "Your 'range' is short, but…" the man shook his head, "The way the way your 'ki' fluctuates, the moment I nudged a toe in, you'd be all over me like the Queen and Princess on ice-cream…don't tell anyone I said that."

The corner of Kunzite's mouth quirked before it settled back down.

"Caris Trent," the man announced himself as he offered a hand, "First Captain and Leader of the Elite."

Taking the hand and shaking it, Kunzite's eyes widened; the man's hands were covered in sword calluses, and his grip was strong. Kunzite's respect for the other man went up another notch.

"Kunzite, leader of the…no, for now, it's just Kunzite."

"Hmm? Well, can you tell me why you were about to spill your guts in Madame Michiru's museum, 'just Kunzite'?"

Kunzite raised an eyebrow. Coming from anyone else, that would have been eye-roll annoying. Coming from this man it was…strangely inclusive, making Kunzite feel like he was the only one this person felt comfortable enough to talk to this way.

Just like her…

Getting his mind of Minerva—Minako, he internally chastised, her name in this life-time is Minako—he addressed this rather strangely familiar man.

"You are…" Kunzite searched for the most delicate way he could put it before finally deciding to return brutal honesty with brutal honesty, "Enduringly annoying."

Caris started before laughing.

"I...hehehe….I've known that everysnortone thought that about me for a long time, but gaspthis is the first time anyone's came out and SAID it!!"

Wiping a tear from his eye, Caris looked back up at Kunzite, this time with grim seriousness.

"You still haven't answered my question."

Kunzite shrugged, "Just remembering those I failed and getting caught up in the moment. Suicide is an escape, a shirking from one's duty; frankly, I'm disgusted that I let myself get this far."

Caris slowly nodded before smiling again.

"If you don't mind my asking," Kunzite questioned, "You said something about an 'Elite'?"

Caris nodded enthusiastically before crossing his arms.

"Oh yes. You see, we are the cream of the crop in their Majesties soldiers; people who can actually compete with the Senshi, though we are a far cry from 'equal'. With yoma attacks and insurgents caused by people with 'power', you'd be amazed at how much military action goes into keeping this place a paradise."

"I think I have a fair idea," Kunzite drawled as he began to assess the man. First Captain; does that make him the best, or just simply the first one promoted? Either way, that he's among this 'Elite' makes him a dangerous man, whatever his silly demeanor.

Caris noticed Kunzite's wondering eyes. "Something the matter?"

"Merely wondering," Kunzite returned without missing a beat.

"Oh? About what?"

"You're the 'Elite', the best, yes?"

"Yees."

"And you fight in a…dress?"

"Yees."

"Isn't that…constricting?"

"And kind of embarrassing."

"So why?"

"Rumor has it that once upon a time one of the Senshi heard one lude comment too many in regards to their uniform of choice."

"….Uranus, or Mars?"

"Both, actually."

Both men smirked before Caris stepped back. "Well, 'just Kunzite', it seems you are no longer in danger of being responsible for Michiru giving me my first spanking in over four hundred years—she deeply cares about this museum, you understand, mostly because Haruku loves it—so I shall take my leave of you."

It was only after Caris turned around and began to walk away that they both realized something about the other.

He called each of the Senshi by name…

Who is he? He obviously knows the Senshi somewhat intimately.

"You know," Caris said, "If you would like, you could come to the training grounds; unlike most of my subordinates, you seem like you can give me a run for my money as a sparing partner, as opposed to the Senshi just mopping the floor with me and laughing about it."

"…Uranus or Jupiter?"

"Minako too."

"Ah, she would at that."

Caris looked over his shoulder.

"Who are you exactly, Kunzite?"

Kunzite blinked. "You haven't heard the stories?"

"Been too busy for years to bother with stories; why, are you famous or something?"

Kunzite looked away. "Or something."

"Well, in that case I'm further resolved not to read those stories. I want to find out from you what kind of man you are, not what some thread-spinner thinks you are. Why, I have one reporter who thinks I'm too empty headed to even be accepted in the Elite, let alone its head, and then I have a historian who thinks I'm a blood-thirsty war-monger."

Caris looked ahead and walked out. "I hope to see you again, 'just Kunzite'."

As he was left alone again, Kunzite bent over and removed the sword from the ground before returning it to its sheath.

Who am I? Unfortunately, I know all too well. I also know what I have to do in spite of it.

When Jadeite finally opened his eyes, the lights blinded him. Sitting up far too quickly, he immediately sat back down, his head—and the room—spinning.

"Wh…what happened?"

"Yo; you're awake."

Turning his head, he saw Nephrite sitting next to him, his chest bare and tapped, and his right arm wrapped in bandages.

"…You got your ass kicked, didn't you?"

"Huh; look whose talking, invalid."

Jadeite mouthed a couple words that were unrepeatable before trying to clear his head.

Something important happened after I lost consciousness; but what?

"Neph?"

"Hmm?"

"We suck."

"Yep; we do."

When Ohanzee returned, he found the other three men sitting at the table; Zetsubou had yet to take his eyes off the portrait, and that mass of hatred was still bobbing ominously overhead.

When Ohanzee sat down, Zetsubou turned.

"You are all resolved? After this, there is no changing of minds, no turning back."

Four heads nodded in answer.

"Good. Then let's discuss the first stages of our plans to make the Shitennou's last few months of life a living hell."

He talked.

They listened.

She laughed.

Heh. I TOLD you not to expect such quick updates, though this took me far longer then I anticipated. I was stuck on how the Nephrite/Jupiter confrontation was supposed to go. Seriously, that's what took the longest. Then just the other day it hit me, 'BAM'. The rest I felt just flowed naturally. Always, opinions both good and bad are wanted and expected. So, let the comments flow!!! Any and all flames should be emailed to