InuYasha Fan Fiction / Sailor Moon Fan Fiction ❯ Prismatic ❯ Inference ( Chapter 21 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

For all that the previous evening could have amounted to -should have amounted to- Zoicite found himself particularly displeased with the results and his ire hadn’t waned any even by the time morning arrived. That gala had been an utter disappointment. Nephrite hadn’t thought so, insisted that they’d gained valuable enough information, but of course it hadn’t been him that had been cheated out of his fun.

Zoicite had huffed at the thought even then. ‘Nephrite thinks to lecture me on intel? The fool. We got a pittance, if anything.’

They hadn’t found the crystal.

They hadn’t taken down the soldiers - hadn’t gotten to so much as fight them.

And Zoicite hadn’t even gotten a dance out of it.

Even more frustrating, they still hadn’t met the little soldier that clearly acted as the leader of their enemies. The damnable Sailor T that had cost them Jadeite, that the queen demanded so intently, had yet to show her face to any of the confrontations since that horrid night. Perhaps, he had mused, she might have perished in the same flames that had taken Jadeite from them.

While the thought of such poetic justice might have tickled him in other circumstances, it would have been most unfortunate, least of all because of the queen’s ire if she were killed. The queen had been growing irate as of late, and far less patient than his memory held of her in the time they had been working under her command, before the soldiers had discovered their operations. The queen’s wishes aside, Zoicite himself much preferred that the little enemy soldier was kept alive for what was to come. Their greatest vengeance would be their success in claiming her little mortal world and her only able to watch and stew in her own failure.

Zoicite was still abuzz with frustration over it all when the door to his chambers swung open.

There was only one person brazen enough to so casually invite themselves into space and Zoicite was annoyed with him at that moment.

“I dare say, Nephrite might be upset with me,” Kunzite announced as he strolled into the room.

“Is that so?” Zoicite muttered, none too pleased himself. At least he could agree with Nephrite on that.

Kunzite paused to arch a brow at him. “Are you that displeased that you didn’t get to dance with the girl?”

“You were supposed to keep her out of the way,” Zoicite answered curtly.

“Priorities change,” Kunzite replied, “and I think you’ll agree that dealing with the soldiers takes precedence over one little woman.”

Not one to defer so easily, Zoicite spun on him to argue. Kunzite seamlessly caught the hand that swung along with the motion, eager for the fight that had cost him his fun without even happening.

“I have already watched one of my men die,” Kunzite retorted, an edge to his tone that someone else might not have noticed, but Zoicite did. “I will not risk losing another.”

Zoicite scowled and though the heat did not fade from his blood, it suddenly stemmed from a different source.

Kunzite’s grip on his wrist tightened. “I will not risk you.”

“If you think,” Zoicite said with a scoff, “that I would be so easily thwarted by a few little girls, then you forget why it is that I am second in command.”

“Yes,” Kunzite agreed, seamlessly twisting their position, “second in command.”

His taller stature towered over Zoicite, who could only muster a half hearted scowl in defiance. He never had been one to play by the rules, and accepting a simple pulling of rank was no different. Kunzite, however, leagues ahead in rank and experience, was quite frustratingly unaffected by it.

Zoicite wasn’t surprised, of course. It only made getting under the man’s skin that much more entertaining. No one could push Kunzite’s buttons the way he could, after all.

Kunzite casually took a step back when Zoicite made to sweep his feet from beneath him. The elbow Zoicite aimed for his ribs landed just as successfully as the hit it followed, which was to say not at all. Instead, Kunzite caught his wrist and simply pinned the offending limb to his back.

“Remember who your commander is, Zoicite,” Kunzite murmured into his ear.

No one could push his buttons the way Kunzite did either.

Zoicite, however, was not so easily cowed by such simple displays of dominance.

As seamlessly as Kunzite might have thought that he’d caught him, Zoicite took advantage of the close quarters. It was a simple matter to sweep Kunzite off his feet now. While the man did not seem terribly surprised, he was unable to recover quickly enough to prevent their fall. The motion earned his freedom, but Zoicite didn’t bother trying to right himself. He landed hard against Kunzite’s chest, using the combined impact of their landing and his weight to pin the man.

“You remember,” Zoicite hissed, “that my submission is earned, Commander.”

The flash in Kunzite’s eyes was the only warning Zoicite received. His brief position of control was swept from his grasp just as quickly as he had claimed it. They met in a clash of mutual defiance, each move following what was by now a familiar dance of dominance and challenge. It progressed as their conflicts always did. Hands lashed out, wresting for control, fingers grappling at clothing, then hair.

It ended as it always did, and Zoicite found his anger abated, if only a result of exhaustion.

What was left of their uniforms had long since been lost to the corners of the room, though which of those corners was anyone’s guess. His once immaculate ponytail had been pulled loose, now a mess of tangles and knots from the fingers that had wound in the locks. Zoicite found he didn’t much care. An echo of soreness radiated through his body from his scalp to his backside, but there was a distinct satisfaction within that ache.

The warmth of Kunzite’s skin against his, the steady thrum of the other man’s heart at his back, was a consolation enough for Zoicite to concede.

No one brought the general of Europe to his knees but his commander, after all.

“It’s not often you and Nephrite hold common tastes,” Kunzite mused, idly twisting a lock of blond hair around his fingers.

“It’s not often Nephrite has good taste,” Zoicite countered. As he tilted his head back to lean against Kunzite’s chest, a grin curled his lips. “If he’s fool enough not to keep her, I think I will.”

“How generous of you,” Kunzite mumbled into his hair, clearly only paying marginal attention.

Zoicite supposed he couldn’t fault the man. He did make for quite the distraction. It didn’t matter at the end of the day. Unless the soldiers made a move -and given how disorganized and ill informed they had seemed, that was highly unlikely- there was nothing to demand their attention so immediately. While attendance at that festival and the recent gala had been unplanned, neither event had disrupted what he had already set in place.

Besides, Zoicite thought as he let his eyes drift shut, he always had been fond of flowers.

---

The sun had already crested the horizon by the time Kagome woke the next morning. It was still early yet, the city likely only just stirring, but well past dawn all the same.

If not for the dull ache of her head, Kagome might have declared it the best night’s sleep she’d gotten in months. It was certainly the first time she had been permitted to sleep in past sunrise in some time. With nobody barking orders to get up and begin the hunt for the day, and no demons crashing into their campsite as a wakeup call, she was almost inclined to snuggle back into the warmth of her comforter for a bit longer.

‘Inuyasha can wait a bit longer…’ her sleepy thoughts insisted. Just as the embrace of sleep had nearly wrapped her in its grasp once more, those thoughts drifted to memories of the night before. ‘Wait…Inuyasha!’

Kagome snapped back to consciousness with such a jerk that she nearly flung herself off the bed.

She kicked off the blankets and rushed to her window. When she swung it open to find the branches of the god tree empty, devoid of the familiar form of one antsy half demon -as he always was when she kept him waiting- anxiety tightened her throat.

She hadn’t been particularly with it by the time she’d gotten home, but she remembered that Inuyasha had been hurt. She remembered which night it had been. Inuyasha had been human. He’d been there, drawn into a fight with the Dark Kingdom as a human.

Perhaps it hadn’t been that bad. But if that were true, Usagi and the others wouldn’t have had to bring him back.

Perhaps he’d already healed. But if that were true, he’d never have let her sleep in so late.

Perhaps he was still hurt.

Kagome was scrambling to dress before she realized it. She hastily shed her pajamas, which she would realize later that she didn’t recall putting on in the first place, yanked on the first pair of pants her hands landed on, and a shirt followed so quickly that it went on backwards on the first try. She practically fell down the stairs for how quickly she rushed down and, as she fumbled to pull her shoes on, it was only the muffled voices that echoed from the kitchen that kept her from bolting out the front door.

The loud crack of the door as she slammed it open put a halt to whatever conversation had been taking place. Whatever she’d been expecting to find, it was not only the sight of Inuyasha and Jadeite staring at her from the kitchen table, looking just as bewildered by her entrance as she was to see them there.

“Uh…” Kagome looked between the two, her panic swiftly fading to confusion. “Is everything okay?”

“Perfectly fine,” Jadeite assured, brow arched as he looked over her disheveled appearance. “But perhaps we should asking you that.”

“You look like hell, wench,” Inuyasha added with a huff. “I thought lettin’ you sleep in a little would prevent that.”

Kagome was struck dumb. ‘Inuyasha let me sleep in? Willingly?’

Maybe she’d hit her head in that tumble with the princess the night before.

“Keh, whatever,” Inuyasha grumbled, standing with a grunt to stomp towards the door. “I got something to do, but you better be ready to go by the time I get back, got it?”

Kagome rolled her eyes, but knew better than to take offense by that point. When Inuyasha stalked off with another grumble, she expected to see him head for the well house. When he bypassed the structure entirely, only to launch himself onto the torii gate and vanish into the city, she blinked. ‘What could Inuyasha have to do out there?’

When she finally came back to reality with a shake of the head, Jadeite was leaning back in his chair watching her. He’d been around long enough by that point, that she recognized his look of amusement, the way the corner of his lips quirked up ever so slightly, for what it was.

“Don’t give me that look,” Kagome huffed as she crossed her arms, trying to look stern. “I had perfectly valid reasons to be concerned.”

“Worrying for me now?” Jadeite chuckled. “I’m touched, Princess.”

Kagome swiped a hand in his direction in a halfhearted attempt to swat him. When her fingertips met air and Jadeite only arched a brow, lips curled in an amused smirk at the attempt, she slumped face first onto the table to shake her head.

“I still haven’t told anyone about you,” she groaned, “and if Inuyasha found out on his own, it wouldn’t exactly be pretty. We’re trying to avoid a blowup, remember?”

It was silent for a beat, the reminder of their precarious position heavy in the air.

Kagome wasn’t sure if it was a lack of energy or a lack of nerve that kept her from lifting her head to face him. There was a quiet scrape of one of the kitchen chairs against the floor a moment later. When she finally picked her head up, Jadeite sat beside her, his expression no longer one of jest but a man once more faced with the uncertain future laid out before them, as potentially grim as it was hopeful.

“I do,” he agreed quietly.

He set his elbows atop the table and, steepling his fingers as his expression grew thoughtful. Kagome opted not to disturb him at first, only worrying her lip as she watched him, the way his eyes shifted despite the neutral look on his face. She could practically see the wheels turning in his head.

Now that the initial panic had passed, Kagome mused over the events of the previous night. The tactics were decidedly different to Jadeite’s, but he’d already warned her that they would be. He had always thrived on crowds, manipulating the masses to feed off their collective energy. Whether it had been a limitation of the ability or a different goal entirely, the event at the gala had been much more of a surgical strike than the casting of a net.

Straightening after a moment, Kagome pursed her lips thoughtfully. “You said Nephrite was your friend, didn’t you?”

“He is,” Jadeite replied, the tension in his jaw betraying the confidence of that assertion. “It would be prudent to bring him into the fold…”

“I’m sensing a ‘but’ in there,” Kagome prodded when he trailed off.

“I hadn’t anticipated Zoicite and Kunzite would join him. Not so soon, at least,” he admitted, lips thinning in frustration. “This complicates things.”

He said that as if things hadn’t already been ungodly levels of complicated. Kagome was pretty sure the plots of even the most contrived television dramas and soap operas would pale in comparison. Then, realizing what he had just implied, she looked back at him with a jerk. “Wait- Zoicite and Kunzite? You mean all of them were there last night?”

“Yes,” he confirmed, tapping a finger against the table - another little gesture Kagome realized was a habit he had when analyzing something. “We’re quite lucky that they only seemed to be there on reconnaissance.”

The advantage that they’d had really went without being said. While she was endlessly grateful that things hadn’t devolved into pitched combat, the more she thought about it, the more it didn’t make sense. The soldiers had been separated. She herself had been stuck inside, caught up in the dark magic that had swept the ballroom.

“Why didn’t they do anything?” Kagome asked. “I didn’t even make it to the fight and Inuyasha…”

Inuyasha had been mortal and notably injured after saving Sailor Moon. Even once the soldiers had rejoined one another, they were operating with much less information on exactly what they were fighting, both for and against, than their supposed enemies.

“That may be exactly it,” Jadeite said, interrupting her thoughts as he turned to look at her meaningfully. “You weren’t there.”

Kagome stared for a moment, uncomprehending at first. Then it hit her all at once, and the weight of the realization settled heavily in the pit of her stomach.

“…oh,” she mumbled. That’s right. They were after her. It wasn’t as if that had been a secret - in fact, Jadeite had been quite open about how high value a target she’d become. She licked her lips, not wanting to ask the question that burned at her tongue, yet knowing it was necessary. “Would it be better if I…stay away?”

“That’s hard to say,” Jadeite replied, expression pensive. “It may stay their hand for a time, but it may also provoke more…drastic measures to draw you out.”

Despite the blood and death she had already seen in the feudal era, or perhaps because of it, something about his admission was unnerving. Kagome met his gaze after a moment, swallowing anxiously in a vain attempt to be rid of the lump in her throat. “More drastic than unleashing a curse on the city or turning people into monsters at a festival?”

Something in Jadeite’s expression grew tight.

“Those events,” he said slowly, “were only warnings.”

As unnerving as the implications behind such a declaration were, Kagome found herself more offended than fearful.

“People were hurt!” Kagome slapped her palm on the table as she straightened to scowl at him. “You’re telling me all that was just to threaten us?”

“If we’d wanted to destroy your city, we would have,” Jadeite replied bluntly. Undeterred by her ire, likely expecting it, he only leveled her with a look. “But believe it or not, the goal was never destruction.”

“Then what was it?” Kagome bit out.

“It was-“ Jadeite paused, brows furrowing as he sat back in his chair, expression suddenly perturbed. “To recover… something.”

All at once, Kagome deflated. Her ire seeped out of her, guilt taking its place as her temper cooled. They’d been over this, after all. His memories were just as vague and hazy as Luna’s had been. She couldn’t fault him for that, especially when he had turned his allegiance despite that lack. It had to have taken a lot of courage to go against everything he knew, to face the reality of what he thought he’d known, and defy what he had woken believing was right.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled as she slumped back into her chair. “I’m just worried. About you, Usagi- about everyone. And it seems like all I’ve been doing lately is complicating things by being a target. I’m sick of being the weak link that gets picked at.”

Jadeite was silent for a long moment. Kagome hesitated to look up at him again, afraid that her snapping had ruined whatever productive discussion they’d been having. Thankfully, he broke the silence before she could spiral.

“You aren’t wrong to be worried,” he said as he stood. “But you have never been a target for any weakness. Not by us.”

Unsure whether to be concerned or flattered, Kagome was stuck with simply baffled instead. Luckily, Jadeite either did not notice or was merciful enough to ignore her bewilderment.

“Go focus on your trip,” he continued, strolling towards the door. “I will work on tracking Nephrite down while you’re away.”

Kagome furrowed her brows as she looked him over. “Will that be safe for you?”

Jadeite chuckled. “Do you have so little faith in me?”

Kagome gave him a look. “Do you want me to list how many appliances you fried last month?”

“And I’ve adapted,” he retorted dryly, though the look in his eye was still one of amusement.

“Okay,” she conceded with a sound of frustration. Pursing her lips, she stalked over to where he stood in the door to poke him in the chest. “But don’t do anything to put yourself in danger!”

A smirk touched his lips before he dipped into a mocking bow. “As you command, Princess.”

Once again, Kagome made a swipe for him. Once again, he side stepped her grasp.

---

The weather was dreary as Inuyasha departed the grounds of Higurashi shrine, but it wasn’t really a bother so much as a reprieve. He thought the acidic air that coated their world was far more miserable. The rain was refreshing, even if it also carried a similar taint of pollution. He’d certainly survived worse and, as it stood, he had more important things to address. Beneath his sleeve, his fingers clutched at the fabric of the little scarf he’d been left with.

In the wake of the new moon, he found himself facing a grim reality of vulnerability and debt.

He especially owed Ami. While pigtail had been busy arguing with the man in a cape and Makoto had helped him stand, it was Ami that had fussed and tended his wounds. Only Kagome had ever had the nerve to try and force medical attention on him before -Miroku and Kaede tying him up in a hut certainly did not count- though there had been less yelling involved from Ami. He had tried to shrug her off and insist he was fine -because he was- but if he hadn’t believed her intent or her aptitude to become a doctor before, he certainly did after that. The injuries he’d taken as a human hadn’t even been bad -certainly not compared to the damage he’d taken on previous moonless nights, spiderheads and possessed sword smiths easily coming to mind- but they had still taken care of him.

Damn him for how soft he’d gotten, but that wide eyed look of worry simply hadn’t let him swat her away. He didn’t like seeming weak, but he also didn’t like seeing women cry.

So he allowed her to set his broken ankle and wrap the bloody gash on his arm from their landing in the rosebushes with minimal grumbling. He wasn’t pleased about Makoto -who he’d barely just met- being involved, least of all helping him back to the shrine given his inability to walk, but until morning returned with the sun he had little choice. He was mortal. This was why he didn’t like being mortal.

More than that, Inuyasha didn’t like owing people.

Ami, timid and soft spoken as she was, certainly wasn’t the worst of people to be indebted to, and at least tracking her had been easy enough. Much as the night before had proved, tracking by scent in this era was typically an unpleasant chore. The air was dirty, heavy with filth and unnatural smells that burned at his nose  and made him hold his breath. But her scent -not unlike Kagome or even Usagi- was a beacon of purity in a sea of pollution. It wasn’t even particularly notable, really. It was simply clean, refreshing the way a rainfall in the midst of smoke and fire was.

He landed on her balcony soundlessly, pausing only to peer cautiously through the window. She didn’t live alone judging by the other scent that clung to the place, but whoever else shared the residence seemed to make themselves scarce given how faint it was.

It was a stark contrast to the vibrant, lively households that Kagome and Usagi hailed from.

Ami herself was sat hunched over a table, books strewn out in front of her, one propped in her left hand while she wrote in another with the right. If he had thought Kagome’s harried study sessions were intense, he’d clearly been very wrong.

Inuyasha nearly flinched when she glanced in his direction and visibly jumped, the little book in her hand falling to the table with a flutter of paper and a quiet thump. He could still hear the surprised pattering of her heart by the time she’d crossed the room to open the window.

“Oh, Inuyasha,” she breathed, “come inside. It’s raining.”

Ami went to rummage in an adjacent closet, and Inuyasha had the good sense to shake the rainwater from himself before accepting that invitation, but she handed him a towel anyway.

“Did something happen?” she asked as she shut the window behind him.

Inuyasha eyed her for a moment. The more cynical part of him wondered if giving her an answer would only jinx the good fortune of a quiet morning. But her brows knitted together after a few seconds passed and, realizing his silence was worrying her, he finally shook his head.

“No, nothing happened,” he assured, then after a moment of consideration added, “keh, not yet, anyway. It’s still early.”

Her surprised expression had Inuyasha wonder if his jest had missed its mark before she covered her mouth to conceal a giggle.

“Yes, I suppose it is, isn’t it?” she murmured.

“Surprised you were up, really,” Inuyasha admitted as he reached for the fabric tucked away in his sleeve. It was beyond sunup, but still an early enough hour that he’d expected her to still be in bed, especially after the previous night.

“Oh, well,” she hesitated, fiddling nervously with the tips of her fingers. “I had quite a bit of studying to catch up on but I was also…”

She turned to look at him and Inuyasha was so thrown by the way her eyes caught his that he straightened out of reflex. He knew that look. He recognized that change. He’d seen the same shift in Kagome’s eyes after every battle, the fading of light in her eyes after every horror he’d been unable to shield her from.

Once upon a time, he might have seen it in himself if he could have stood the sight of his own reflection.

Inuyasha had resented Kagome for that light in the beginning - scorned the brightness of innocence that he’d never been permitted to enjoy for himself. And then he’d seen the way she’d begun to dim, that innocence fading with every life she’d seen snuffed out, and he found himself mourning its loss instead.

He didn’t want to see the light fade from this woman too.

“I was worried about you,” her quiet admission interrupted his thoughts.

Inuyasha faltered and turned to look at her with such a jerk that he might have fallen had he still been perched in her window. ‘She worried…about me?’

Even Kagome’s fussing still boggled his mind. People didn’t often worry about him. That was how he’d always liked it, the standard he’d striven to set. Even their friends on the other side of the well, while they certainly cared for him, didn’t often worry for his wellbeing. He’d proven his strength to them and they trusted- relied on him for it.

“You were quite injured last night and…” she continued, but trailed off to look him over meaningfully.

That’s right. He’d been human.

She had seen him change. She had seen him as a human.

She had seen him weak.

“Keh,” Inuyasha scoffed, “it’ll take more than that to take me out, don’t you worry about that.”

She didn’t seem convinced but only furrowed her brows and gave him another once over. He watched her expression warily, ready for the look of disgust as she truly processed what he was, what it meant for him to be a half breed, ready for her to cringe away from him.

Ami failed to deliver either of those things.

Instead, she only smiled at him. “That’s a relief then.”

She offered him tea a moment later and Inuyasha, still flummoxed, could only stammer a quiet agreement. Neither one of them really spoke, both either content with the quiet or at a loss for what there was to talk about. Ami putted around the small residence while he sat, left only to observe, not that there was much to look at. The place was small, much more so than the shrine grounds where Kagome lived.

It was tidy in a way that might have made him question whether anyone lived there at all if not for his sense of smell. There were books lining the shelves, several boasting the text of a language he could not recognize much less read. A book on herbs stood out amongst the others, and a quick flip through found quite a few recipes for familiar tonics, but he found himself lost on the ones that surrounded it. With little else to do, he returned the book to its home on the shelf and opted to watch Ami as she finished up in the kitchen.

Inuyasha noticed that she hummed while she worked.

Tea came shortly after, and he muttered a quiet, if short, ‘thanks’ that only garnered a smile in turn. When she settled back into place with her books and her own mug of tea he couldn’t help but to question if she had one of those tests to defeat. She laughed a little, but admitted he was right. When she offered to show him one of the books she’d been working in, he allowed it only to find himself thoroughly dumbfounded. He had already known that Kagome was smart, no matter how much of a hard time he gave her about her schooling. What Ami presented to him was a different level entirely.

He was polite enough to finish the tea she’d made him, but didn’t linger long after. If experience with Kagome had taught him anything, it was not to interrupt ‘test prep’.

It was only once he’d made it halfway back to the shrine that Inuyasha realized he still had her little blue scarf. Coming to a halt on the top of one of the many tall buildings to reach into his robes for it, he hesitated. The fabric was soft against his sword-worn palms as he wrapped his fingers around it. It wouldn’t take long for him to make the distance needed to return it, but they were already well behind on the shard hunt and the journey to improve Tessaiga.

His fingers gripped the scarf a little tighter.

It would be fine to keep it for just a bit longer. He would see her again, after all. He would return it to her then.

---

For all intents and purposes, the outcome of the gala had really gone quite splendidly. While it had not resulted in the acquisition of the Silver Crystal, the encounter with the soldiers had been wonderfully informative.

The soldiers did not possess the crystal. Zoicite had debated him on it, but Nephrite was quite certain that their enemy did not yet wield the artifact. They had seemed far too concerned that his puppet that evening, one hapless little princess, might truly have been about to escape with it and then far too disappointed to discover a simple diamond.

They didn’t know.

Sailor T had been missing yet again, something the queen would surely be displeased by, but perhaps that had been for the best. His little date for the evening hadn’t been brought along only to become a pointless casualty. That Kunzite had nearly allowed for exactly that was particularly grating. Inviting her at all had been a spur of the moment decision, if he were honest. Even now, Nephrite couldn’t say what had driven the impulse, if perhaps the curiosity she spurred.

The black crystal hummed against his palm. It reacted to the girl, and yet never projected her image when he sought out targets to harvest energy.

The girl was amusing, almost endearing in a way that was somehow comforting and unnerving at the same time. He could imagine Jadeite finding her just as entertaining, however much the thought of his friend still stung. His comrade would have likely had quite a bit of fun teasing and provoking such a feisty little woman.

The dance with her had been just as impulsive as the invite, but even Nephrite had been surprised at himself for how absolutely irked he’d been in having to step away from it. It had been oddly disappointing to leave her to Kunzite at all, if he were honest. It had been even more of a disappointment when the commander had materialized beside them once the soldiers appeared.

By the time Nephrite had found her again she’d looked completely drained. Had he not known better, he might have wondered if one of the monsters had gotten to her, but the creatures had not been involved that night.

Even more bewildering, he’d had to extract her from a gaggle of the visiting royalty and their security. Despite her exhausted explanation that she had simply taken care of Princess D when the girl had fainted, he was at a loss as to what exactly had happened.

He had seen her in the crowd through the eyes of his shadow, an oddly discomforting encounter all its own. He had seen her spunk before, found it amusing even, and she’d certainly proven herself brazen enough to charge into a fight for the sake of other people.

‘People who probably don’t even deserve her mercy…’ Nephrite shook his head with a scowl at the errant thought.

But she hadn’t been in range when the princess had fled back inside.

He could believe that she’d given chase though. This was the same girl that had attempted to protect him from a freshly turned monster - with a knapsack no less. While the attempt might have been foolish, perhaps that was the very reason he’d found it so astounding.

And then there was the way she had stood in the crowd at the gala. Human, helpless, directly in the line of fire that was meant for the crowd she shouldn’t have been swept up in, and yet she’d glared into the darkness unafraid. He hadn’t been prepared for the look of her anger, so directed at him whether she’d known it or not, to sting quite as it had. There was an undeniable fire to her.

Fire that the monsters they commanded would happily devour.

Fire that the queen they served would eagerly snuff out.

Fire that he found himself more inclined to preserve than to destroy.

Surely the queen wouldn’t beget him one little human from the spoils of war they were bound to obtain. Despite the hiccups in their recent endeavors, the failures in the wake of the soldiers’ interference, they had been loyal and dedicated. While he had certainly drawn the queen’s anger, Jadeite had died for his dedication. The kings had one of their own stolen from them in their efforts, and still they served. Surely they’d earned that much.

Nephrite realized, however, that they had to claim that victory first. And the path to victory meant they had to accomplish several other goals first.

That meant obtaining the silver crystal, which meant dealing with the soldiers.

That meant defeating the Moon Kingdom, which meant destroying Sailor Moon.

That meant capturing Sailor T, if she even still lived.

For all that he disagreed on with Zoicite, Nephrite could at least share in his frustration on that matter. That damnable little soldier was the reason they’d lost Jadeite, and yet the girl hadn’t even shown her face since taking their brethren -his friend- from them. It wasn’t outside the realm of possibility that she had perished after that battle. Things would certainly be simpler if that were the case. Taking the girl alive tied their hands in a way that complicated things, if they’d even had the chance to face her.

While he couldn’t say he would mourn her if she turned out to have perished, Nephrite found himself feeling equally jilted at the thought of never getting to face the little soldier who’d bested his friend. He could chalk it up to curiosity, a need to see just what had drawn his friend’s attention and stayed his hand even before the queen’s orders had given him an easy excuse. He should have pressed Jadeite harder back then, before the situation had grown so precarious.

‘None of that matters now. Jadeite is gone.’ Nephrite thought bitterly. Stewing on what could have been would do little more than frustrate him and there were far more productive ways in which to channel his ire. He had operated quietly for long enough and the information garnered from the events of the gala had proven one very important thing about the enemy they faced.

The soldiers knew nothing of their battle. The soldiers remembered nothing of what or why they fought. They knew nothing of their own forces, of their own power or weapons at their disposal. Their ignorance would be insulting were it not so advantageous.

A grin curled Nephrite’s lips. ‘It seems you will have my back one last time, Jadeite.’

 

Perhaps it was time he took up his friend’s tactics and let them come to him.