Hello NeighbourBishoujo Senshi Sailormoon is the property of Naoko Takeuchi, Kodansha, Comics, and Toei Animation> HELLO NEIGHBOUR by Soylent Green Chapter One The stars appeared as beads through the falling snow, their light so gentle. Everywhere, the ground was a frozen blue, the midnight forest rising up from it in straight black lines. It had been snowing for a while, the heavy banks now silver-fringed by the light of the stars. And the barren moon.... * * * * At first, he couldn't figure out what was blocking his nose. He snuffed and sneezed, but whatever it was seemed to change shape, becoming more obstinate, and certainly colder. He tried to raise his arm, only then realizing the pain. He couldn't feel his fingers. Shaking, groaning, he eventually brought his sleeve to his face, bashing clumsily at his nose. But his cuff was lined with this same substance, cold and jagged. He laboured to open his eyes, and to his horror, they too were caked shut. He let out an inarticulate squawk, flapping around in a manner that some part of his mind chided as undignified. He was lying on his stomach, his struggles forcing more of the offensive cold stuff down his shirt. Finally, his eyelids pried apart, and he looked about wildly. To his infuriation, his vision revealed nothing but a dim haze of blue and white. He lay for a moment, snorting, blinking, waiting for his eyesight to sharpen. This it did, though the picture before him changed only marginally. Snow! He moaned, suddenly realizing why his fingers felt numb. How long had he been lying here? He brought his hands to his mouth and blew frantic hot breaths onto them. This failing to revive, he jammed the tips of his fingers into his mouth, no longer caring how silly it may look. To his relief, the frozen digits began to tingle painfully, blood running warm through them once more. He must not have been lying here for long; surely on a night like this, he would have frozen to death instead of waking up. His hands now more or less mobile, he removed them from his mouth, searching for a dry spot on his clothes to wipe them. After some minutes and twisting and snarling, he managed to sit up, tucking his legs beneath him. His breath plumed from his mouth in little clouds of fog, faintly amusing to one as muddled as he. Above him, dark trees rose, wintertime bare, branches locking in a dome over his head. And through it, the silver disc of the moon sent beams of light through the canopy, illuminating the snow as it fell. He stared openmouthed at the moon, head cast upwards. It was so bright, so much like another light, one that had left him with a final, radiant memory. "Ginzuishou!" he gasped suddenly, toppling over backwards. His eyes went wide and blank, and in his mind, he saw the deity queen Serenity raise the silver crystal. He gagged, closing his eyes tight. Yet, the memory played on, and he watched the divine light of the ginzuishou engulf everything in sight. The moon... he had been there! Up there, where it hung now in the sky. He had fought there, led by Queen Beryl-sama. The red queen. She had wanted the crystal for her own; it's power drew her. But Serenity.... He rolled over, his face in the snow. Serenity had turned the ginzuishou's power on them, revenge for her ruined kingdom. Her daughter had been killed - "I am...." He groaned, turning over onto his back, once more to see the night sky. For a while, he simply lay there, on his back in snow, staring up at the moon. These memories were all real. But now, as he lay here, they seemed impossible. The moon in the sky looked so far away... how could he have been up there, fighting? Where he lay now was not the Dark Kingdom. It was not the comfortable subterranean caverns and tunnels to which he had grown so accustomed. The demon Metallia, the one who had ruled over them all, could not be felt here. "I am dead," he said to himself. But that sounded even sillier. He chuckled to himself, blowing little clouds of vapourous breath into the air above him, watching as the moon lit them. Then he froze. Along the border of the trees, a tiny noise, faint yet undeniable, caused him to fall silent. He stopped blowing breaths, holding perfectly still to listen. Growing impatient, he levered himself up, twisting his neck to look about. Yet the surrounding forest was motionless, without even a breeze to stir the branches. He floundered about in an effort to imitate the noise that he'd heard, trying to account for it. It had sounded like shuffling along the ground, muffled by the gently falling snow. If it's far away, then that's why you can't see it. Probably snow falling from the trees. Or an animal. Who knows what they have here. "Baka," he grumbled. Yet there it was again. Closer, this time, and now distinctly punctuated by the sound of snapping twigs. A great big animal.... His breath grew short as he listened. He could make out the unmistakable noise of feet scuffing through the snow, dogged yet clumsy. Twigs broke under their weight. There! Two saplings in the fringe of trees were bent sideways, and from them burst the shadow. It reared upwards, arms out and flailing, snatching at any wayward shrubbery. He watched the form lurch and stumble, dangerous in its speed. From its throat came strange howls, so intense they sounded sorrowful. Its pelt was covered in copious balls of snow, a wild mane hanging in tousled strings. His breath hissed inward as he watched it turn sharply, charging into the clearing where he sat. He drew back, forcing himself to his feet for the first time as he prepared to run. The creature was smaller than he, but its velocity and reckless lunges warned him to get away. It was still screaming as he stumbled from it. He scrambled madly, terrified by the sound. Yet, as he truly began to run, the cries he was hearing seemed to change in his ear, transforming from the unearthly howls he'd been listening to moments ago. He skidded to a halt, slowly turning around. Though the noise was inconsistent, the words were unmistakable: "Kunzite-sama.... Kunzite-saamaaaa!" The figure tripped, collapsed onto the snow, and laid there, breathing heavily. Slowly, silently, he crept back towards it, now realizing that this purser was no animal hungry for meat. And on this thought, he reached his hand out to the fallen form. His visitor rolled over upon his touch, hair falling back in tangled orange wisps. And suddenly, like magic, he found himself staring into the ruddy face of Zoisite. "Kunzite-sama?" the little sakura croaked, hooded eyes fixed on something beyond and nonexistent. "No.... it's Jadeite." "Jae... daitou..." Some recognition crossed Zoisite's eyes before they rolled back into his head. Then, quietly, he murmured, "This is the ginzuishou's curse." Well, now that I'm done with the obligatory teaser, maybe I should get to work, huh? You can expect a real start to this story soon enough ^_^ Chapter Two: Hello NeighbourHi all! Well, I suppose it's time to get this underway, don't you think? This fic is dedicated to Amberlin, Elanor, Celeste, Anna-chan, and everyone else who said that I'm not all bad ^_^ Bishoujo Senshi Sailormoon is the property of Naoko Takeuchi, Kodansha Comics, and Toei Animation. HELLO NEIGHBOUR Chapter Two by Soylent Green The moon was beginning to fade in the sky, stars going out one by one, invisible in the dim light of the still-hidden sun. But at least there was a sun. Jadeite put Zoisite down for the seventh time. The little king would wake up from time to time, but pass out just as soon. Useless. Jadeite had tried his magic; a transport, levitation, anything to help him on his way, but no power flowed from his fingertips. No power at all. But, instead of sitting with his head in his hands as he'd projected himself to do, he had hauled Zoisite's body over his shoulder, and stumbled out of the clearing. Since then, he'd had been carrying Zoisite, trudging along what he dearly hoped was a trail. Better yet, a trail to someplace warm. The night itself was not terribly cold, but there was a chill, perhaps left over from his stupor, that slowed him down to a dismal plod. The narrow path cut its way through the bushes and the trees, revealing a clean, white run. Jadeite stared at it, wondering whether the pristine snow through which he tramped was a sign that nobody had ever walked here before. The farther he got, the more he found himself hoping that some more of his comrades would be scattered nearby. Kunzite, Nephrite, even some of the lower officers. Zoisite was hardly company in his current state, and when he was awake, all he asked for was Kunzite-sama, Kunzite-sama, Kunzite-sama. Perhaps what Jadeite had heard about them did have some element of truth therein.... But surely, if Zoisite had stumbled upon Jadeite without even intending to do so, the others must be lying somewhere, just out of sight. Jadeite had pondered calling out to them, but the forest leered at this, its shadows roiling with God-knows-what preparing to descend upon him, dare he make a sound. Now his arms were rested, and he gathered up the snowy bundle, preparing to march again. They were still clad in their uniforms, the same ones they'd donned for that so seemingly distant battle. The material had come through with so few scuffs, only a small tear here and there. Though it was proof enough of where they had been. Zoisite had said one word of sense, Jadeite thought as he stared at the paling sky. This was a curse. He stopped suddenly, feeling the weight over his shoulder begin to squirm. Hurriedly, Jadeite cast Zoisite down to the ground, hopeful that the young king would acquiesce to being more than dead weight. Zoisite was deposited in the snow, where he sat, looking about. "Are you able to walk now?" Jadeite asked in a mock-huff. Zoisite glared up at him from his shiners, purple and cadaverous, cheeks and lips matching the snow. His mouth opened, but all that came out was a cloud of breath. Unsteadily, he began to rise, his legs jointless and stilted. Succeeding, he straightened his back and puffed out his chest, an action that though silly due to his size, was impressive due to his circumstances. Yet he did not speak, merely skewing his face in a petulant method. Jadeite passed this off as tiredness, for it was not like Zoisite to be so silent in adverse situations. Instead, Jadeite broke the calm. "We need to find somewhere to stay- with food, no less," he said. No answer. "I know you want to look for Kunzite, but if we don't find somewhere to stay, we will die." The statement sounded a bit sensational, but in the long run, it would most certainly come true. Still Zoisite glowered at him, some vile mood boiling in his eyes. Jadeite looked into them and saw the young king thinking, thinking, thinking what to do. He wasn't well. He hadn't been, even from the moment when he'd come crashing through the trees. It was unsettling, seeing such a dark silence in someone so vital as Zoisite. All of a sudden the boy turned, and with an unforeseen vigour, began to march down the path ahead of Jadeite. The latter watched him, eyes wide and mouth open. It was only when Zoisite halted a short distance away, that Jadeite realized that the young king had conceded to remain with him. Curiously pleased, Jadeite followed him down the trail. * * * * "I think... I need to rest a moment," Jadeite muttered, seating himself down in the snow. Zoisite stopped and turned. The colour was bleeding back into his cheeks, though perhaps only from the brisk air. They'd been traveling for almost an hour, and the sun still had not yet risen, merely filling the path with predawn green. Jadeite, on the other hand, had paled. Carrying Zoisite had spent him, and now he didn't even wish to stand. When was the last time he'd eaten something? Why, before the attack on Serenity's kingdom. Even in his faint condition, Jadeite found that absolutely hilarious. He lifted his head, acknowledging Zoisite who stood over him. The little sakura's eyes glittered, and his mouth... his mouth was moving, soundless. But still he wasn't speaking. He'd said something earlier, about the ginzuishou's curse, but now he didn't talk at all. His expression was no longer black and irascible, just blank. He's hungry, that's all. "What's that?" Jadeite asked, suddenly curious. He noticed that Zoisite had lifted something with the tip of his black leather boot. As he watched, his interest grew. From the snow, guided by Zoisite's boot, was lifted a flat, splintered piece of wood. Though rough and rotten, it was a doubtless display of human craftsmanship. For, on the bottom side of the plank, scrawled in almost indistinguishable lettering, was a title. Graenone. "What language...." Jadeite breathed, turning the board over and over, brushing the snow from it. Zoisite studied it too. Jadeite noticed that the boy's lips were moving again, silently. But here was something even more interesting. "I think it's a sign," Jadeite declared, suddenly excited. "There must be a house or a village or something nearby! People made this, Zoisite!" And then Jadeite was off, trotting up the path, the snow growing lighter in the morning glow. "Come on, come on!" he called to Zoisite, as he disappeared farther down the run. But Zoisite didn't come. The sun was rising, and it lit the trees from behind. It's white light struck Zoisite in the face, causing the headache he'd been nursing to roar back in painful red throbs. It had overtaken him once already, when he'd run into Jadeite. He thought his unconsciousness would cure it, but upon awakening, it remained, dull and irritable. Jadeite's form had blurred into the distance, the path's sparkling snow swallowing him up in its golden light. The trees were going too, everything being whited out by the dominant, dawning sun. It was only Jadeite's voice, frantic and strident, that made him walk again. "A house!" he was yelling. "A house! A great house!" Zoisite trundled forward, finding it difficult to discern the path from all this light. He skittered around a bend curbed by leaning tree-trunks, their icicled branched obscuring his view even more, creating a network of glass that flashed maddeningly. Yet, as he cleared this obstruction, he realized that there was no mistake in Jadeite's acclamations. Rising up from the trees, standing black against the sky, was a magnificent pointed spire. Zoisite found Jadeite, as he remained staring upwards with undisguised fascination. >From where they stood, the rest of the building was brought into view. Indeed, it was a house. A great house, no less. The spire was flanked by twin gabled roofs, below them extending three or four stories, the glass in the windows all marvelously intact. The entire place, it seemed, was fashioned out of stone and wood, a wondrous jigsaw of varying browns. The windows, stretched and melancholy, were dark, belying the entire place as empty. For now, at least. In normal circumstances, it would be hard to decide what to make of such a discovery. But Jadeite, poor, exhausted Jadeite, knew exactly what to think. "This is fantastic," he whispered, duly ignoring Zoisite for the time being, and taking excited steps forward. "I'm going to see if I can get in." He began to jog, boldly enough, towards the house's twin front doors. However, his nervous glances at the uppermost windows were shamefully obvious. Zoisite stared at the house's silhouette, blinking rapidly as the headache quavered and flourished. What was a building like this doing here? So beautiful, so well kept. Perhaps, if the ginzuishou had decided this fate for them, the house he was looking at was as unfathomable as the crystal's magic itself. Oh well. Perhaps he should be thankful that he had at least found Jadeite. His companionship was better than none. But now, as he watched Jadeite approaching the doors of this fanciful mansion, he felt the anxiety within him, the one that stoked his headache, begin to grow again. It was a peculiar feeling, like a dream, always knowing he was forgetting something. He wasn't surprised when he saw Jadeite swing the house's doors open, calling on Zoisite triumphantly to come and see what he had done. But as he stepped forward, the pain in his brow doubled, then tripled with each move he made. He was aware of Jadeite, watching him with what began as irritation, but then developed into a puzzled frown. Zoisite stopped, lifting two fingers to his hairline, breath hissing through his teeth as they came back bright red. He could hear Jadeite saying something, drawing nearer. His shadow was blocking the sun, and for a moment, Zoisite's vision went clear. And he could see them. Tracks in the snow. Not his, not Jadeite's, but someone else's boot prints, winding past the house, back into the trees. Someone else's boot prints, and Zoisite knew whose. "Kunzite-sama!" Jadeite leaped back as Zoisite bolted from his previous stoop, not towards the house, but back into the fringe of trees. He was running like he had been when they'd first chanced upon each other here, jumping into the bushes with the same blind ferocity. "Come back!" Jadeite shouted after him. Zoisite's forehead had been bleeding, oh God, he really was ill! He had no choice but to follow, leaving behind his beckoning discovery to follow the broken twigs and stomped bushes trailing his fellow king. It wouldn't be hard; he'd retrieve Zoisite, and get back to the house. With any luck, the little king will have passed out again, as he seemed to do after such an episode, making it ironically much easier to transport him. Zoisite hadn't gone far. After all, he didn't have to. He had stopped in a sheltered hollow, untouched by the fresh snow, in the shade of a tree's massive roots. And there Jadeite found Zoisite, kneeling, crooning over the fallen body of Kunzite. Jadeite's eyes went wide as he saw this, and he bent down to sit at Zoisite's side. The boy was crouched over the silver king's head, tangling his fingers in the long white hair, murmuring something almost coherent. Blood from Zoisite's brow had ran into his eye, then dripped down onto Kunzite's cheek. Slowly, Jadeite found he could decipher Zoisite's words, his ears becoming tuned to such a soft tone. "He's alive, Jadeite; he is warm...." So he was. And for this, Zoisite sounded so happy, murmuring merrily as he pulled the unconscious king into an awkward embrace. Jadeite wasn't sure it was mannerly to watch this, for Zoisite had now grown quite oblivious to his presence. Instead, he turned his attention to Kunzite's cloak, which half-covered what he had assumed to be a particularly large root. Jadeite reached over and tugged at the grey cloth, revealing not a root-- "They're both here!" Jadeite exclaimed, beholding the curled form. "We've found them both!" Lying against a rise in the earth was Nephrite. Auburn haired and uniform clad, he was exactly as he had been the night of the Dark Kingdom's attack. Jadeite clapped his hands impulsively. At last, three fellow kings! The forest, the house, everything unfamiliar now seemed so much less threatening. And in the gentle light of dawn, Jadeite was happy. Nephrite's body was warm, too, and in his precariously curled position, the rise and fall of his side was plain to see. Jadeite took it on himself to wake him, leaning over to tug at the king's arm. But as he did so, the arm, balanced as it was on Nephrite's leg, uncurled and fell to the side, exposing yet another surprise. For there, curled on Nephrite's lap, a tiny black cat was sleeping. Marked on its forehead, glinting in the morning sun, was a golden crescent moon. HELLO NEIGHBOUR Chapter Three by Soylent Green Serenity's men were not good fighters. After all, such a kingdom, one only referred to in legend and fairy tale, was not prepared for a real attack. They had been created as watchers, so blissfully out of reach that they slowly lost touch with their warlike protectorates. In many ways, this lofty pedestal had caused them to forget how closely they must supervise that stewing blue planet. Perhaps they had assumed that the Earth prince Endymion had managed to stifle this new threat. The one caused by the wayward sorceress named Beryl. Imagine how terrified they must have been to see that black cloud, Metallia's cloud, in supernatural proportions, rise up from the Earth. And then to see it move through space itself, like a spill of ink through water, to hover over the Moon. Nephrite saw the battle ending before it had even begun. Serenity's forces were so pitifully outmatched; her kingdom would be destroyed, and Beryl would take the ginzuishou for her own. And he knew that would require killing Serenity. Metallia, now a cloud over the Moon Kingdom's towers, split open, spilling forth a multitude soldiers, and a barrage of energy. Yet, even in this chaos, Serenity never let go of the ginzuishou, using it to protect herself. This could be expected. At least, Nephrite had expected it. He had kept an eye on the white queen, standing in the recesses of a fallen gate, holding the crystal in front of her, mounted on its crescent wand. She had been beaten, her eyes half-hooded and sorrowful. Nephrite saw Beryl, poised and waiting, anticipating the ginzuishou to fall from the deity queen's hand. Then came the surprise. Nephrite couldn't see what provoked her to that final step, but when she lifted the ginzuishou and spoke the incantation, all stopped to look. No one had expected this! Now, hopes of the simplest of conquests were rapidly disintegrating. Some of the less steadfast youma began to run, the rest all standing, afraid to move. For everyone knew, to release the crystal's full power meant death, not only to the enemy, but to Serenity herself. >From the crystal came the white strobe, and it struck Nephrite to the ground. Through the light he could see them; Jadeite, Kunzite, Zoisite, and Beryl, all paralyzed by the ginzuishou's beam. Great shafts of it shot into the sky, piercing the clouds, Metallia's screaming drowning out the crystal's own discordant melody. And over it all, the burning light, like a sun. * * * * The light never completely died away. It remained against Nephrite's closed eyes, no longer burning him, just... warm. The sounds of Metallia and the crystal had already been forgotten, and their absence was belatedly causing Nephrite to wonder. It was this curiosity, and the incessant warm glow on his face, that begged him to take a look. And he did do, holding his breath as he opened his eyes. Yet there was no Queen Serenity, with her many turning gowns. No prince and princess, suspended in Metallia's invisible hands. No shattered palace with its caving minarets. Instead, there were knots in the bark of a tree, and a puddle of half-thawed mud. The light of the sun - for indeed it was that - had darkened even more, obscured by a moving shadow. Like a huge wing. Where was he? "Ah! He's awake! He's awake!" The wing suddenly exclaimed. Nephrite jumped, his eyes (which were only half open) widening painfully. This moving shadow, most certainly not a wing, had a voice. And with the curling blond hair and blue eyes making themselves visible, Nephrite recognized it. "Jadeite...!" His voice was rough, though his exclamation clearly appreciated. Perhaps there was something momentous and joyful that Nephrite could have said. After all, the battle and the ginzuishou were nowhere in sight. This was not the Moon. Nor was it the Dark Kingdom. And here in front of him, if not a friend, was at least a familiar face. Nevertheless, Nephrite only said what came to his mind. "Damn it, Jadeite, you're in my light." Jadeite's face did a double-take, first frowning at this queer statement, then lifting his eyebrows in realization. Compliantly, he moved back, letting the full light of the sun, pleasantly warm, fall on Nephrite's face. For a moment he sat, vaguely aware of Jadeite nearby, but not in any hurry to talk to him. Rather, Nephrite chose to study these new surroundings... at least from where he was sitting. He was surrounded by roots, coiled and knotted, joined to the base of a tree so tall, that for the sun's light, he could not see its top. Instead, his eyes followed the tree-trunk down, noting the traces of snow on the branches, accounting for the bite in the air, so fresh compared to the Kingdom's. Further down, the roots looped off in another direction, and resting against them- Oh, no. He should have known Zoisite would be here. Hunched a few metres away, he had his back to Nephrite. His pretty orange ponytail was tangled and stringy, his uniform wet from the snow. He still looked good, though. He'd always had a lovely back. Out from Zoisite's protective curl, to Nephrite's surprise, spilled the better two-thirds of another man. At first he didn't recognize, wondering what Zoisite was doing clinging to the body of a fallen soldier. If it weren't for the tattered blue and grey cape spread out over the ground, he might have gone on wondering. "Is he dead?" Nephrite demanded, pointing at Kunzite. Jadeite started again. It would seem that this last battle had robbed Nephrite of his tact. Still, it was good to see him talking. "No; he'd just unconscious." "Well-- ah!" Nephrite, who had rocked himself into a sitting position, now discovered his tiny feline companion. He jumped, shoving the black cat off his legs. It tumbled to the ground, the jolt causing its gold-brown eyes to crack open slightly. The crescent moon on its forehead flashed in the sun, the light striking Nephrite in the eyes. "Goodness, Nephrite," Jadeite chuckled. "It's just a cat." "You know very well what that cat is." This remark came from Zoisite, who had lifted his head and looked towards him. The mysterious blood from his brow painted a dark line to his left eye, where it pooled. It made his white face appear lopsided, an effect wholly disturbing. Nephrite chose to ignore it. "Good morning to you too, Zoisite." "That's Luna, Serenity's cat," Zoisite continued, tugging absorbedly at Kunzite's hair. "What's Serenity's cat doing here?" "Does it matter? What are we doing here?" Jadeite lifted the floppy Luna into his arms. "She's just a cat." "A talking cat," Zoisite added. Nephrite giggled. "Oh, yes, listen to it talk." "Shut up! We should kill it." "What?!" Jadeite whisked the cat out of reach, like a favourite doll. "We shall not!" "It knows we're its enemy." "So? If she does talk, maybe she can help us get our bearings." Jadeite rubbed the top of Luna's head. "Being Serenity's smart little cat, she should know a thing or two about the ginzuishou." "That reminds me," Nephrite started, now making an effort to stand up. His legs were cramped and soaked from the snow. He felt strong, but a faint hunger in his stomach made him irritable. "Exactly where are we?" "I don't know!" Jadeite returned his exasperation tone for tone. But then his face brightened. "But there is some good news. I've found a house." "A house?" "Just through the trees." Jadeite made a loose gesture behind him. "I think it's empty, but haven't been able to take a good look. Zoisite's been-- " "Kunzite-sama!" The squeal was Zoisite's, the little king now curled even more fervently over Kunzite's form. Though the latter's face was blocked from view, the slow sweep of his arm showed the others what Zoisite's cries were all about. Jadeite stood at a distance, holding the cat, content to watch the two with an amused smile. Nephrite just watched. Kunzite was rising, first moving up to sit, then gathering his legs beneath him. He didn't seem to notice Zoisite at all. And it was obvious that Zoisite was unsure of what to do. He placed his hands on either side of Kunzite's face, trying to draw some attention out of the silver king. Attention was what he got, though not the kind he was hoping for. His gentle murmurs changed to a yelp as Kunzite, with one spread hand, shoved Zoisite roughly away. The young king tripped backwards, landing fully and heavily on the ground. Jadeite and Nephrite stared. Now that was unexpected. It would seem Zoisite thought so too, for he remained sitting in the snow, watching Kunzite with wide eyes as he stood. One... two... three.... Kunzite stopped, hands going to his face in a sudden, automatic movement. Then, the look in his pale eyes softened, and he bent to the ground. With one arm, he encircled Zoisite's slender waist, bringing the smaller man up to stand with him. This movement was so full of tender grace, it did not match the one that came before. Neither onlookers could hear the words between them, but Kunzite's gentle, stroking hand and Zoisite's downcast nods indicated that amends had been made. Shyly, Zoisite put his arms about Kunzite's shoulders, and a belated reunion embrace was shared. Though Jadeite had heard plenty of stories about the two kings, he realized that only now was the first time he'd actually seen proof. He cursed himself for working alone so often. Nephrite cleared his throat. Kunzite lifted his narrow silver eyes. His gaze went from Nephrite, to Jadeite, to Luna. "We... we're keeping her," Jadeite explained. "She might be useful." "For what?" Kunzite's voice was smooth and soft, not at all like Nephrite's commencing croaks. "To catch rats in the big old house?" "You know about the house?" "Of course," Kunzite said, tracing Zoisite's shoulder blades, making him wriggle. "I hadn't intended to fall asleep here. I suppose I overestimated myself. I was looking for you three, actually, and I did find him." Nephrite tossed his head. "Well, then," Jadeite licked his lips, a habit he'd cultivated as long as he could remember. "I suppose, we should go back...." * * * * Any worries of the house being inhabited disappeared in cloud of stale dust. Upon opening the doors, the stench of year-old air plumed from the dimness inside. All these windows outside; why was it so dark within? The four kings entered cautiously, the suspicion of such a prolific building being left completely alone slowing their steps to a silent tread. Zoisite didn't like it. Here and there, a shaft of pallid yellow light drifted in from the dirty windows, but overall, the house was as somber as the Dark Kingdom had ever been. To his left, he could see stairs, winding and lined with rugs, leading up to an invisible second floor. And to his right and centre, several doorways and wayward halls, small and stuffy, layered with fine, grey dust. The smell of the place, that twice-breathed, menacing smell, pushed against him. Suddenly, Kunzite, whose arm to which he clung, seemed the most distant figure in the place. "Perfect!" Jadeite's voice made Zoisite flinch. The headache he'd been nursing, the one that for all he knew had caused his forehead to bleed, was threatening to start up again. "It's perfect!" Jadeite repeated. "Look at this dust! There's no chance anyone could live here now!" His enthused voice had woken Luna, the cat looking about with unfocussed eyes. Jadeite dropped his head to look at her, scratching her between the ears. Perhaps in his enthusiasm, he did not realize what he was doing. After all, such a smart little kitty, being held by a Dark king.... In a spasmodic flurry of claws and hisses, Luna leaped out of Jadeite's grasp, her feline agility taking out of sight in two bounds. "Shit!" Jadeite cried. "We've got to go after her!" "Why?" Nephrite growled, looking up to the old lantern hanging above him. "She's a direct link to Serenity and the ginzuishou!" Jadeite cried, his statement formulated and textbook-accurate. "She could help us!" With that, Jadeite was gone, ducking into the corridor he'd last seen the cat run into. With some unintelligible muttering, Nephrite jogged after him. Zoisite looked up to Kunzite, hoping the look he was giving was one of imploring exasperation. He wasn't sure whether Kunzite registered it that way, for the silver king gave him the apologetic raised eyebrows, then took off down the hallway after Nephrite. Zoisite had no choice. His mounting weariness and desire for something good caused his throat to tighten. Somewhere distant, he could hear what he assumed was one of the three, thundering up a flight of stairs. Kunzite was now out of sight, and at the prospect of being left in this musty entryway, Zoisite broke into a jog. He pushed on the way Kunzite had gone, the hallway wooden-floored and oddly slippery. His headache, he realized, was back. Though he cursed himself for thinking it, all he could wish for was his bedchamber in the Dark Kingdom, and for Kunzite to be there. True, his lover was here as well. But... it was no good. And it made his headache worse. He stopped at a junction in the hallway, almost skidding into the wall. The others had come down here, hadn't they? He'd been running for a good minute. Quite fast, too. How big was this place? He no longer could hear the footsteps of the other kings, nor see the light guiding him back to the entryway. There was only the grey hall, straight and dark, to his left, right, and centre. He opted for his right. Yet, a he began to walk, the nape of his neck prickled, as it did when he was disturbed in his studies. Perhaps it was Kunzite-- But of course it was not. In fact, it was nothing. He turned three or four times, assuring himself of this. Yet, the feeling would not dissipate. It was mingling with his headache, forcing him to jog down one of the corridors, hoping to run into someone- even Nephrite. Then he felt something, so close to panic that it may have been, rush upon him. He wheeled again, and though he still saw no one, that terrifying sensation throbbed in his chest and his head. Suddenly, someone was touching his face; he could feel their warm finger slide down from his brow. He backed up against the wall, the slippery floor causing him to sink down father and farther. He tried to say something, make a noise, for his mouth was moving. And yet he could see nothing, say nothing, and the hand slipped down his cheek. HELLO NEIGHBOUR Chapter Four by Soylent Green His mouth gaped, opening and closing, his green eyes wide and rolling. He felt himself sucking in breath; suddenly in this stale hallway there was not enough air. As he gasped inward, his throat made thick, gagging noises. The wall he'd backed against was slick with tiny dust particles, and Zoisite let himself slip to the floor. The hand, that warm, insistent pressure, never left his face, and though his staring green eyes could not see it, it remained, slipping lower and lower. As it reached his throat, he jerked, a convulsive attempt to right himself, or at least get out of the way. His fingers raked the floor and his feet scuffed the wood. And yet, he couldn't move from his position; these warm fingers on his neck held him with a weight greater than his own. It did not stop there, but slowly, steadily, slid below his uniform collar as though he was wearing no jacket at all. Still Zoisite could see nothing, nothing but empty hallway. Yet someone hovered over him, their shadow stopping him from moving, their fingers resting on his collarbone. It felt violent, this presence, its touch sending patterns of red and black through Zoisite's skin. He could see them; they washed across his vision. Struggling a bit more, he suddenly realized why he couldn't move; why he couldn't breathe. It was sitting on him. He could feel it now; it had dragged him to the floor, and now it sat on him. If it didn't move soon, he'd be crushed for sure. He found himself taking in slow, shuddering breaths, pushing them out hard, trying to make a noise. Any noise. But his shallow breathing was soundless to him, as was the weight that settled heavier and heavier upon his chest. The touch on the base of his throat was burning now. He could feel it stripping the skin there, in that small, singular indentation. He remembered the tiny spiked daggers that some rogue youma used to carry, and how it had felt when one nicked his arm. This touch was not unlike that. He shut his eyes and grit his teeth. Just then, the pressure lifted a bit, as a sound reached Zoisite's ears. It was not his ragged breathing, or his feet scraping against the floor. The noise grew louder, the intermittent clunking unmistakably the sound of footsteps. Then the fingers on his clavicle lifted. There was a faint, posthuman sigh above him, and then nothing. It - whatever it was - was gone. All with Zoisite never seeing it. For a moment he sat, eyes shut tight, gulping the foul air. There was warmth beside him now, and a new presence, one hauling him up to stand in the fold of grey-clad arms. There was a voice in his ear, hands in his hair, and at last- something good. Kunzite-sama, Kunzite-sama. At least, Zoisite had meant to say that, but all that came from his mouth was a soft and ill-guided stuttering. He leaned into the embrace, letting Kunzite talk to him, not listening to a word the other was saying. Right now, all that he concentrated on was a fleeting comfort, one that he hadn't felt since he'd last sought repose in the Dark Kingdom. Perhaps it was brought on by Kunzite's nearness, soothing his panic. It must be. "Zoisite?" The boy jumped out of his lull, suddenly realizing exactly what Kunzite was saying. He opened his mouth, but was interrupted by another voice. "Oh, there he is." This was Jadeite. Zoisite hadn't even heard him approach. He looked around, finally noticing that not only Jadeite had joined them, but Nephrite as well. The two stood at the hallway junction, staring at Zoisite. "He's bleeding again," Nephrite said. "Look, it's running down into his collar." Zoisite's hand went to his face, only to be intercepted by Kunzite's. The silver king's gloved fingers worked into Zoisite's hairline, the gesture as impersonal and brusque as that of a nurse. "There's no cut." If there was surprise in Kunzite's voice, it couldn't be heard. Finally, the obligatory question: "Zoisite, what happened?" Zoisite stood for a moment, feeling the wet rivulets trickling past his jaw. What could he say? That he was accosted by some invisible assailant? He had no proof of that. Only blood from some nonexistent wound, and dust on his hands and boots. "Nothing...." He looked down to the floor. "I have a headache." Silence for a moment. Jadeite shrugged some dirt from his shoulders and continued to watch Zoisite. Nephrite shared his gaze. Zoisite, who before had been passing exploratory fingertips over the red lines on his face, suddenly cast a glance at the other two kings. His expression fluctuated, a transformation so abrupt that his very features seemed to change shape. His eyes went narrow, the green within them darkening. His lips tightened, and he rolled his head towards Jadeite in a manner that could only have been picked up from Kunzite. "Did you find the cat?" He asked, his voice quiet. Jadeite started. "Oh, yes- " he said, bending his arm over his head in a sheepish simian scratch. "Yes, I did. Took some time, but I trapped her in a cupboard on the second floor." A cough interrupted him. "That is to say, Nephrite trapped her." Then Jadeite's expression brightened. "This house...!" he exclaimed, clasping his hands. "This house is remarkable! I've never seen anything like it, either in the Dark Kingdom or on Earth. The architecture is so fine, everything is paneled by precise strips of wood. And the fixtures! There's no pump; one simply pulls the handle and the water runs by itself." "Runs warm, too," Nephrite put in. "Any food?" Zoisite asked. "Oh...." Jadeite paled. In his excitement, he had forgotten the dull ache in his stomach. "I don't know; I haven't had time to look. There must be... this house has everything else." "If there is food," Nephrite cut in, "that means someone must live here." "You shall go look," Kunzite said, addressing neither Nephrite nor Jadeite, but nodding in their general direction. Nephrite muttered something, but since Kunzite wouldn't stop staring at him, he turned and stalked down the opposite hall of the t-section. Jadeite looked from him back to Zoisite and Kunzite, and after a moment's hesitation, trotted off in the wake of the auburn-haired king. A few scuffs and echoing voices, and they were gone. Zoisite stood for a moment, looking up at Kunzite. He had hoped that the others departing again would allow him the closeness he had been feeling a moment ago, but it did not. Kunzite's silver eyes were fixed on some indeterminable point beyond Zoisite's head. One hand fingered the spot on Zoisite's brow where the cut should have been, the other remaining at his side. "Let's go Zoisite," he suddenly said. "Let's go to the second floor and find the cat. And perhaps while we are there, we'll use the miraculous 'fixtures' to clean away your blood." Zoisite shrank back at the tone in "your blood". Your blood, your fault. Then he straightened as Kunzite swept up his hand, and began to lead him slowly down the hallway. The way back into the entry was easier to find than he had thought, considering how lost he had thought himself not long ago. Just a couple of turns, and they were facing once more the double front doors. These were closed now, and the foyer was even darker than before. Zoisite barely noticed the looming spiral of the stairwell, only looking up at it when Kunzite led him to the first step. They stopped for a moment, tracing the magnificent construction with their eyes up to the second floor. Zoisite noticed with some amazement that the staircase stood on its own, not touching the rest of the house at all except at the top and bottom. "Opposing forces", Kunzite called it. They climbed it quickly, Kunzite looking up, Zoisite looking down over the banister. He had an incredible urge to spit from this elevated height, something he'd wanted to do in the Dark Kingdom, but never found the moment. When they reached the top, they paused, looking from left to right. Jadeite had said ‘a cupboard’, but he hadn’t said where. Just then, an unmistakable and furious yowling caught their attention. It was muffled and distant, seeming to come from the hallway right of the landing. One of the upper windows of the foyer cast a beam of dull sunlight onto the carpet there, revealing it to be a dark, rich purple. It guided the way into the prospect corridor. "Luna, I believe," said Kunzite. The two started walking towards the sound. Straight down the hall, and a sharp left turn led them into a cramped room, from which the cat's screeches were coming. The floor was bare, though the wooden boards seemed to have been polished. There was a small, circular window, and its light fell on a line of cupboards mounted on the wall. Cupboards! Zoisite skidded up to one, tapped it, and listened for any noise inside. Luna had cleverly fallen silent, and so Zoisite continued his systematic exploration by throwing open the little doors one by one. Perhaps not the most cautious way to go about searching for a cornered cat, as Kunzite's strained expression indicated. The last of the cupboard doors was opened, and Zoisite stood back, puzzled. "The cat's not in any of these." "Well, perhaps she's in another room." "But... the sounds were coming from in here, I know it." "Well, she's trapped in a cupboard. Somewhere on the second floor. We'll find her." "But-" "Look, Zoisite," Kunzite interrupted, his tone changing. He had walked to the other end of the small room. "Here's one of Jadeite's 'fixtures'." Zoisite walked over to join him, noticing that Kunzite was standing before a deep washbasin. It was carved of some white, glossy stone, one Zoisite had never seen before. He watched Kunzite's hand, resting on the would-be pump handle. A turn of the wrist, and a faint squeak of the metal, and clear water ran from the spout in an eager flow. "Fascinating, no?" Kunzite said, more to himself than Zoisite. "Magic, perhaps." "I don't think so. It seems rather mechanical, actually. Come here," He placed one hand on Zoisite's shoulder and led him closer. The other hand brought water- oddly warm- to Zoisite's face. "The light isn't much good," Kunzite said, his voice much softer than before, "but we may as well wash away this blood." Zoisite smiled and let Kunzite's hand pass over his face. He closed his eyes as Kunzite’s fingers worked with gentle precision through Zoisite's bangs. Soon his forehead and cheek had been cleansed, and Kunzite moved down to his throat. Zoisite giggled and Kunzite grinned. "It would seem the blood has gone down into your shirt, Zoi-chan." Kunzite's fingers went to the clasp on Zoisite's uniform. However, this sweet distraction was cut short when shouting from the main floor reached their ears. "They’ve found something." Kunzite was the first to turn back towards the hall, Zoisite sighing and following. They retraced their steps quickly, returning to the top of that massive suspended staircase. Zoisite peered over the railing, only to see Jadeite hopping about down below. "Food!!" the blond king called up. "We've found the pantry!" "And it has food?" Zoisite asked the obvious- and the unbelievable. "Yes! Good to eat, not stale or rotten or any such thing!" With an air of semi-disbelief, Kunzite and Zoisite clattered down the stairs, causing the old structure to creak pitifully. "Where?" Zoisite demanded as they reached the bottom. "This way." Jadeite led them through a convoluted mess of turns and doorways, coming out into a large room, one lit by several wide windows. The ample light revealed a massive oak table, standing squat on impossibly thick legs. The floor was clay-tiled, the walls wooden and hung with countless pots and utensils. In the corner, a looming oven stood dusty and black, its pipes and grates so unlike the primitive cooking structures of Earth. Everything looked as though it had never been used, and yet... food? >From what appeared to be a closet, there came scuffling, and a crash, and shortly thereafter Nephrite appeared. Looking rather elated, he held a pair of bright orange carrots in his hands. "Look at this! Vegetables! Fresh, too!" Nephrite's face was bright, and his in his smile, all of his teeth could be seen. "How can this be?" Kunzite wondered aloud, walking forward to take a look in the pantry. Zoisite skipped after him, and peered inside the storage room. His eyes widened to pain and his stomach ached furiously. The pantry, to his amazement, was lined with shelves, stacked high not only vegetables, but… everything. Fruit in wicker baskets, things strange and unnamable in heavy jars, loaves of bread, even some dry meat. "But, for this all to be fresh..." Zoisite started. "... Someone has to live here. I know," Nephrite finished. "But that doesn't make sense. You saw the dust lying about. The air smells as though the house has been shut up for years." "But everything is good," Zoisite muttered, picking up the bread and mouthing an experimental morsel. Fabulously soft, it was the best thing he had ever tasted. Without hesitation, he devoured the rest. "Steady on, Zoisite," Jadeite raised a hand. "We can't just gobble this up. First we have to figure out why it's fresh. And how it got here." "What? There's no time for that." Zoisite growled and reached for another loaf. However, as his hand strayed into the recesses of the shelves, his fingers did not land upon bread. Rather, they came to rest on something soft, and unsettlingly warm. Squealing sharply, he retracted his hand, and darted out of the pantry. He stood for a moment, breathing through his mouth, and staring into the startled faces of the other three kings. "What was that all about?" Nephrite demanded. Zoisite didn’t have to answer, for out from the pantry door jumped a tiny black form. Nimble and four-legged, it bounded onto the table, and, sparing a bronze-eyed glance and the four kings, leaped out the door. "Not again!" Jadeite cried, dashing after the Moon cat. "That was… Luna?" Zoisite asked, utterly confused. "But I thought you trapped her upstairs." "I did…." said Nephrite, conveying both hurt pride and obvious bewilderment. "She couldn’t have gotten out." "But we heard a cat upstairs when we were up there." Kunzite peered down the hall in search of Jadeite. Then he stepped back into the kitchen. "I think he’s chased her to the second floor again." For a moment, the three stood in the kitchen, absolutely silent. The food had been momentarily forgotten, and now they found themselves listening to Jadeite’s distant footsteps. Their hollow resonance betrayed his location, undoubtedly on the spiral stairs. Suddenly, there was a clatter, and a dissonant splintering. And then, a few seconds later, the dreaded, heavy thud. The three froze in silence, listening breathless for noise. Any noise. The soft patter of paws announced an arrival in the kitchen, and all turned to see the lithe black cat enter the room once again. She stopped, regarding the three kings. "Where’s Jadeite?" Zoisite breathed, half expecting an answer from the supposed talking feline. Luna made no noise, simply staring back. Then bending her head, she licked at her paws. Chapter Five: Hello NeighbourLittle note here: in this chapter, I refer to Luna's voice being high-pitched and tiny. This, of course, is coming from the original version, where her voice is even squeakier than Sailormoon's :P Bishoujo Senshi Sailormoon is the property of Naoko Takeuchi, Kodansha Comics, and Toei Animation. HELLO NEIGHBOUR Chapter Five by Soylent Green In one sudden and fluid movement, Nephrite dove forward, seizing the cat by her scruff. She screamed and spat, flailing her legs and tail with the frenetic energy of a trapped insect. "I knew she was no good," muttered Zoisite in that low, dark tone. "Popping up wherever she pleases in this house, and now-" his chatter turned into a question, "-where is Jadeite?" Luna's copper eyes widened, her feline features seeming to melt away. If it is possible for an animal to carry such a human expression, the one conveyed by Luna - dangling as she was from Nephrite's grip - was one of almost abject innocence. Her mouth opened, revealing pearly needle-teeth and a bright pink tongue. However, what came out was hardly a kitten's mewl. "Nothing! Nothing! I have done nothing!" she squealed, her voice as high and tiny as a child's. "Your companion has taken a fall!" Nephrite nearly dropped her. "My God!" he cried, more from the shock of a talking cat than Jadeite's apparent fate. "A fall, she says." Kunzite's soft voice was almost as startling. Instantly, unfazed by the evident miracle of nature held in Nephrite's hands, he and Zoisite were gone from the kitchen. Their footsteps, brisk and loud, could be heard marching their way to the foyer. Nephrite paused for a moment, then decided to follow, keeping Luna in a two-handed grip. He moved quickly through the stuffy corridors, faintly aware of Luna trying to bite him. She wasn't talking anymore, the only noises coming from her being a perturbed, catty gurgling. The light from the windows was stronger now, the outside sun fully risen and effulgent. Shafts of it fell bright yellow into the foyer, catching in their way a cloud of golden dust particles. Undoubtedly, they had been stirred up by something. His eyes met Kunzite and Zoisite, standing at the foot of the stairwell. Nephrite gazed up at that magnificent spiral, noticing only then the gap in the carved banisters. Immediately, his eyes dropped again to the floor, his gaze resting upon the space before Zoisite's feet. Jadeite lay on his back, perfectly spread-eagle, unmoving. His eyes were closed, their lids and sockets purple and faintly glossy. There was no blood to be seen within or without; his lips had paled to match his face. His yellow hair seemed almost white against the dark hardwood, blending into his skin at some soft, indeterminable border. Nearby, two broken banisters lay, mercifully missing him in their fall. "He's very cold," Zoisite said curtly, kneeling beside Jadeite, "but I can feel his heartbeat." It was during this moment of singular distraction that Luna managed to squirm out of Nephrite's hands, giving a slight "prt" as she landed on the floor. On tiny pink pads, she skittered away, towards the two front doors, now closed and dark. "Where are you going, cat?" said Zoisite suddenly, an adequate amount of derision put into the last word. "Away," replied Luna, her tone almost as rude. "Hardly." Fueled by his recently-consumed loaf of bread, Zoisite half-stooped, half-lunged to Luna's side. Before she could scurry away, he'd deftly seized her by the tail. "Let me go!" she yowled. "I told you, I have done nothing! If you demons can't keep your balance--" "What's that you say?" Zoisite badgered, shaking Luna as he talked. "That Jadeite simply fell?" "I don't know! I don't know! He chased my up the stairs, and all I saw when I looked back was him going over the side!" Her voice trailed off into a soft mewing sound, more appropriate for a cat. Mixed in with the noise, Zoisite thought he heard words being uttered. Something along the line of "Artemitsu, Artemitsu." He looked at Jadeite upon the floor, handing the cat absently back to Nephrite. "You keep hold of her this time," he said, a little more gently than he'd intended. He raised his right hand, touching his fingers to his hairline. "I suggest we take Jadeite off the floor," Kunzite said suddenly. "There must be a bed in this house somewhere." He stooped, attempting to pick up Jadeite in a careful manner, the injuries hard to discern. Finally, he succeeded, hauling the blond king's form up with him. "Nephrite," Kunzite said, "run up to the second floor. I think I passed by a bedchamber or two up there. See if they're furnished." Nephrite, still holding the cat, nodded. His lingering hunger had left him with no energy for objection. First things first, after all. He climbed the stairs, his boots loud and reckless on the wood. Kunzite started to follow, his pace slower and more deliberate. "Do you honestly think Jadeite just fell over the railing?" Zoisite asked, joining Kunzite. "I hardly think that cat had anything to do with it, if that's what you're implying." "I don't know," Zoisite murmured. His eyes went to Jadeite, resting limp in Kunzite's arms. Again, Zoisite's hand went to his forehead, as a faint wave of illness passed through his body. "This place...." "He hasn't eaten yet," Kunzite put forth. "Perhaps he fainted." "You haven't eaten yet, and you didn't faint." "I'm in much better shape." Nephrite greeted them at the top of the stairs, squinting as the light form the windows struck him in the eyes. He held his hand above his brow. "There are five bedrooms up here; two are larger than the others. He doesn't need a big bed, though." The others followed him into an adjacent room, it's smooth door half-open. It creaked as it was pushed back, the floorboards echoing it. The room had a window, on the pleasantly shaded side of the house; the light filtering in was a comfortable grey. It was a smaller room, plain and serviceable, almost unfurnished save the blue-quilted bed standing at the far wall. Silently, slowly, as though entering the house of an enemy, the kings stepped into the room. Their boots clacked on the wood, quieting only when they crossed the woven throw-rug. Kunzite reached the bed first, bending forward and depositing Jadeite upon the quilt. The latter had not moved an inch, his breathing so shallow it could hardly be noticed. "I'm uncertain of what will happen if he does not wake up soon," Kunzite said. "Without magic to heal, that may be a long time. And he needs to eat." "I say we stay nearby," said Nephrite. "There are so few of us already, we'd best pay close attention to Jadeite. Here," he turned to Zoisite, "take the cat for a moment. I'm going down to get some more food. Even if Jadeite doesn't wake to eat, that doesn't mean the rest of us should starve." Zoisite mutely took Luna into his hands, ignoring the irritable struggling she made. He watched Nephrite retreat towards the door, only then speaking out. "Wait, Nephrite." "What?" Zoisite's grip had inadvertently tightened on the cat, and she growled. Zoisite opened his mouth, unsure of what to say. He didn't truly care about Nephrite's well-being; it shouldn't be there, this worry. But look what had happened to Jadeite, alone in the house, and his own misadventure in the hallway.... "Nothing. Don't take too long is all." He dropped his eyes to Luna, and attempted to scratch her ears. She snaked her head and nipped at his fingers. Nephrite snorted, tossed his auburn hair back over his shoulder, and marched out of the room. Gentle silence followed, as Jadeite for the moment became no more than an addition to the furniture. Kunzite stepped up behind Zoisite, looking over the younger man's shoulder. Though Zoisite was pleasantly aware of Kunzite's hand resting on his lower back, he was rather irked by Kunzite's gaze, which was fixated upon the black cat. "Well, Luna," the silver king said suddenly. "Care to tell us why we're here?" "Pardon?" the cat squeaked. She blinked her eyes at Kunzite's towering form. "You know, why we're all in this house. You of all... cats... should know." "Well, I don't." "Serenity's crystal ended the battle for all of us," Kunzite said. "One moment, we all stand together on the Moon - you were there too, I know - and the next moment, we all awaken in a forest." Luna stared at him, her eyes dark and unreflecting- very unlike those of a cat. "It looks like Earth, doesn't it?" Kunzite said, turning his face to the window. "But it's not. And I think you know that as much as I." No reply. "But I don't think you're supposed to be here," he said, looking down at Luna. "Serenity made a little mistake. Wasn't there another one of you? Artemis, was that his name? Poor choice of names, actually; Artemis was a woman." "What are you going on about?" Luna said, trying her best to sound menacing. Kunzite, however, was thoroughly outdoing her. "I understand if you don't want to tell us what exactly Serenity has done." Kunzite dropped her a grin. "You'll probably want to eat, take a nap, give yourself a tongue bath... do all your little kitty things." Luna murmled indignantly. "But I know you know where we are now, Luna. And you, who are just as eager to leave as we, shall tell us soon enough." The clatter of lone boot steps signaled Nephrite's return. He squeaked the door wide open, his arms enfolding a mass of various foodstuffs- mainly bread and dried fruit. He dumped it all on the small wooden table beside the bed. "This comprises most of the pantry," he said. "Pity there's nothing to drink." "There's water," Zoisite interjected. "That's not what I meant." Zoisite leered at Nephrite for a moment, then grabbed a handful of fruit. "Aie, don't eat so much!" Nephrite protested. "Who knows how long the food here will last us!" "Nephrite," Kunzite sighed. "Since the idea of an abandoned house having a full, fresh food storage is unlikely enough, I hardly think it will run out. I believe this place was designed to welcome... guests." "What a welcome," Zoisite muttered. He looked down at Jadeite, still recumbent on the bed. The very wrinkles in his clothing were just as Kunzite had left them. Zoisite felt the dull headache stir behind his eyes once more. In silence, the three Dark kings - and the cat - ate the food on the table. It was there they stood for quite some time, their attention divided between the shifting of the sunbeam along the floor, and the inert Jadeite, still yet to awaken from his fall. * * * * Nightfall had come suddenly; winter, it seemed, had not quite left this place. The kings had remained inside all day, alternately checking in on the still unconscious Jadeite, and poking about the house. A main parlor, several other sitting rooms, a dining room, four other bedrooms, and two baths had been discovered, all decorated with austere furniture and dust. The pantry had yet to empty. Zoisite padded over to the bedchamber window, staring out at the trees' black silhouettes. He had a sheet draped over his shoulders; his uniform discarded once he'd figured out how to draw a bath. His headache was gone, for now, and all he could feel was the lingering warmth of the bath water. The house, by all logic, should have been deathly cold, even during the day. Yet it was forever warm, just as the food was forever present. He didn't like this place. Nephrite had conceded to taking the room next to Jadeite's, assuming with surprising unsurprisedness that Kunzite and Zoisite would be sharing one of the larger bedrooms. This was the one they had chosen, particularly for its many tall windows, arranged along the two outer walls. It was very dark within; firewood was to be tomorrow's task. Everything was illuminated by the windows' blue light, the moon and the stars less visible than the night of Zoisite's awakening. He found his way back to the bed slowly, his dark-adapted eyesight less fit than it had been back in the Kingdom. Kunzite was already in bed, his silver eyes catching, compounding, and reflecting the window's glow. Perhaps, if there was one thing Zoisite disliked about other king, it was his eyes. True, they were very beautiful to look at, narrow and flashing. But all Zoisite could ever see in them was his own reflection. "Kunzite-sama?" he asked, finding his place in the crook of Kunzite's arm. "Hm?" "Do you really think Luna knows what we're doing here? Or were you simply goading her?" "Both," replied Kunzite, winding Zoisite's damp hair about his fingers. "I will maintain that Serenity did not intend to kill us during that battle. I'm merely hoping Luna will condescend to tell us why." "Why? Why do you think that about Serenity?" Zoisite sat up and perched on his knees, blocking the light from the window. Even then, Kunzite's eyes would not stop glittering. "I don't think Serenity could kill anyone." Kunzite took a handful of Zoisite's hair and pulled him back down. "That's not what she was." He kissed Zoisite once, by the ear. Zoisite sighed, grumbling into Kunzite's shoulder. "What was that?" the silver king growled, loosing a broad smile as he spoke. He pushed Zoisite onto his back, rising above him. "Kunzite-sama, please," Zoisite said, bracing a pale, cautionary hand against Kunzite's chest. "Yes?" "These sheets are so white." "And so?" "I might bleed." "What? You never do." "No, no, I mean from here." Zoisite pushed aside his bangs and indicated to his brow. "It happens whenever I get... worked up." Kunzite raised his eyebrows, his expression softening. He sank down again, wrapping his arms around Zoisite's smaller form. "You won't bleed," he whispered into Zoisite's ear. "You won't bleed." * * * * It must be nighttime, Jadeite thought, as his clearing vision revealed the darkened room. Why did his back hurt so much? He was on a bed, alone of course, probably in one of the smaller rooms. He hadn't remembered going to bed... or eating, for that matter, as his stomach soon reminded him. He was even still wearing his boots. He felt almost angry with himself, for not being able to recall the evening go by. He lay back, deciding it would be best to just sleep until dawn. His back ached furiously, as though he'd been lying in the same position forever. Yet, he possessed no volition to move. The silence of the room had encroached upon him. He became aware that he was at that point, the point at which the earnestness of listening transforms silence into noise. Tiny noises, the normal sounds of an old house settling. At least, this was what Jadeite told himself. In all honesty, the sentient mind would not read the little squeaks on the floorboard as normal at all. They seemed so close, so precise. Yet, even as Jadeite tried to meditate on this, he could feel his exhausted mind slipping back into sleep. He sighed and relaxed, dismissing his nagging fears, and stared blearily across the room. As his eyes closed and he fell away, it did not occur to him at all that the shadows moving along the far wall were not those of the undulating trees outside. HELLO NEIGHBOUR Chapter Five by Soylent Green Zoisite lay awake, eyes black and staring at the moon-striped wall. The clouds had cleared well into the night, the moon sharing its pale clarity with the night sky. Its light magnified the lurching umbra of the forest; a shadow play of stewing branches danced upon the bedroom floor. He hadn't slept at all this night. In fact, he hadn't slept since his transposition from Serenity's kingdom to this place. Wherever this was. The rising shadow beside him, the one that accounted for the slight depression in the mattress and the heat warming the quilts, went barely noticed by Zoisite. As far as he was concerned, Kunzite, now deep in his post-coitum sleep, wasn't there at all. It was this realization that was keeping Zoisite awake, eyes wide across the room, quilt knotted in his unacknowledged grip. Zoisite remembered how it had been in the Kingdom, his shy strivings for the attention of the silver king, and how rewarded he felt when he received it. It had been a thrill, the secrecy of it. Sweet, sober Kunzite had been forever attentive to his little beau. But ever since his awakening in this place, the moment he had placed his palm on Zoisite's chest and shoved him away, Zoisite knew something was missing. The tenderness brought on by their solitude in the Kingdom was dilute and vacuous in these new surroundings. Their reunion had been irresolute, an automatic display in front of Jadeite and Nephrite. Yet he couldn't explain it. He tried to search for a single weakness, the one thing that made everything else feel wrong. Indeed, this place was strange, even dangerous, but hadn't the Dark Kingdom been as well? Zoisite sat up, gathering the sheets about his waist like the train of a gown. He felt suddenly anxious, and he reached down to tease at Kunzite's hair. He considered waking him, then thought better of it. Sighing, he pressed his face into the pillow, beginning his pattern of reassurance. This place was new; he needed time to adjust. Jadeite was injured, a cat was talking. His own encounter in the hallway still shook him, but only in memory, a distant and dreamlike nickelodeon. He'd reclaim his intimacy with Kunzite soon enough. He only had to wait. * * * * "The meat is very good," Nephrite heard himself say. "It should be," replied the servant who'd brought it in. "The queen herself ordered it to be made." "Beryl-sama?" Nephrite was puzzled. Since when had the queen made his meal orders? He raised a knife to the cut, prodding it dubiously. From where the knife tip jabbed it, deep brown gouts of juice rolled down and onto the plate. This wasn't like most meat in the Kingdom: dry, tasteless, gummy. "Her majesty also requested a message be delivered with your meat," added the servant. He produced between his beaded claws a little folded parchment. Nephrite reached out to take it, marking how the youma skittered back when he did. Unfolding the paper, he blinked twice, and read: Nephrite, you who have been assigned to organize the reconnaissance mission to Serenity's kingdom shall receive responsibility for its failure. The meat you see before you is the thigh of the youma captain you so irresponsibly appointed. Perhaps chewing on it shall remind you that your position does not allow for ill-informed decisions. Nephrite sat back, suddenly repulsed. All the reason in the world could not tell him whether or not this dish was what Beryl said it was. Nevertheless, the queen did things like this. Whenever she tired of an outright scolding, these peculiar and unwholesome methods were her prescribed punishments. "Will that be all?" Nephrite asked, looking up from the meat and regarding the servant. "No, Nephrite-sama." "Well then?" "Her Majesty, you see, wishes me to confirm that you ate your meal." * * * * In the discomfort of his overly-warm bedsheets, Nephrite awoke from his dream; the taste of broiled meat was all that remained of it. He rarely dreamt his memories so accurately, so vividly. In fact, he never dreamt memories at all. He looked about the moonlit room, examining the floorboards the blue quilt, the unaired white pillows, their unfamiliarity stirring within him a prickly anxiety. The dream was already fading in his mind, and though its images been mostly unpleasant, he wondered whether they were the last he'd ever know of Metallia's realm. Would he never be returned to his knotted tunnels and dim chambers? Would he never watch with amusement Beryl's trailing red hair, twitching at the thought of how fearfully funny it would be to step on it? Rising form the bed, he paced over to the window, looking out at the black and blue lines of the forest. Even in the nighttime gloom, he could see tiny clods of snow falling from the branches. Perhaps from a wind, perhaps from the thaw. But they hid nothing. There was no Beryl, no Metallia, no youma still stumbling about in that wilderness. He and the other three were the only denizens of the Kingdom to be found in this place. He stretched, a succession of pops running up his spine. Debating the fate of himself and his comrades was perhaps a task best suited for the morning. The net of sleep, ripped a little prematurely, was beginning to knit once more, and Nephrite walked lazily over to the bed. At the very moment he drew back the covers, and muffled sound caught his attention. He paused, guessing it was Luna, the cat he'd irresponsibly tethered to the bed leg with a piece of twine from the kitchen. However, she was still sound asleep, or pretending to be, as Nephrite stomping around was enough to wake any animal. As the strange noise did not repeat itself, Nephrite fell back into his bed, exhaling. But as he pulled the covers over him, it came again, uncharacteristic and unlikely. It was a human sound, heavy and forced. Not quite breathing, not quite speaking, but edged with strong and ragged vocal pulls. And it wasn't stopping. Nephrite leaped out of bed, hands and feet ice cold. Fumbling with his utilitarian trousers, he hopped across the room and into the hall. The noise was much louder out here, as harsh as it was incessant. He turned his head from side to side, trying to pinpoint its origin. The hallway, being almost totally bare, did not help him, sending the sound glancing off the walls in all directions. To his right, the corridor ended with Kunzite and Zoisite's room, while the other way led back to the stairs, with a brief stop at Jadeite's bedchamber. That, Nephrite realized, was where it was coming from. His bare feet padding on the thin carpet of dust, he crept up the bedroom's entry. The noise was dampened a bit by the tentatively closed door, but nevertheless, its lurking proximity was enough to make Nephrite hesitate. What was the worst thing it could be? For the life of him, Nephrite couldn't imagine. He straightened his back, calling upon him his familiar resolve, and pushed the door open. It took only one glance to see that Jadeite was the immediate problem. There he was, flat on his bed, his entire body taut. Both his hands grabbed at the quilt on top of which he lay. His head was thrown back, eyes closed, teeth clenched. It was he who was making the noise; it whistled out of his mouth and nose in a grating of half-strangulation. Perhaps he's choking, Nephrite thought. With less trepidation but certainly more urgency, he crossed the room to Jadeite's bed. Slightly unsure, but prepared to do something; the sight alone revolted him enough to end it. But as Nephrite stooped at bedside, Jadeite's prone body relaxed. His arched back eased, giving way in a dramatic, collapsing motion. Breath sighed freely from his mouth, and the contorted face settled. Panting a little, the blond king opened his eyes and peered up at Nephrite. The crisis evidently passed, Nephrite stood up and folded his arms. "Are you all right?" he ventured. The words were merely dutiful and sounded awkward. Relief crossed Jadeite's face as his heavy breathing subsided. "I..." He stopped, eyes going past Nephrite to the bedroom door. Nephrite turned around quickly, his fluttering nerves jerking again as Zoisite stepped into view, joining the midnight gathering. Against the black of the hall, the young king was an apparition; the white quilt he drew about him blanched his already pale skin. His dark eyes and hair stood out, as though not really a part of him at all. Nephrite, however, was through being frightened. "Oh, put on some clothes!" "Was that Jadeite making all the noise?" Zoisite asked, pushing past Nephrite. "I don't feel very well...." Jadeite sat up on the bed, wincing at the obvious pain in his back. He raised one sweaty hand to wipe at his equally sweaty brow. "Well I'm not surprised; you haven't eaten. Here," Nephrite handed Jadeite what remained of the platter of dried fruit and now-stale bread. It had been left there should the blond king awake hungry. Jadeite cast an ashen glance at the food, picked up a bread crust, and proceeded to nibble at it obediently. His mouth was turned down at the corners, his tiny bites did could not belie his distaste. "Perhaps..." he ventured, "I could get some water?" "Of course," said Nephrite. "Zoisite, fetch Jadeite some water." Zoisite's eyes widened, and he shrank back a bit. "Me?" "Yes, you. What are you afraid of?" Zoisite looked towards the hall, his face going even paler than before. "I don't think I should...." "I'm your superior officer, and I say you should." "But-" "It's all right," Jadeite cut in. "It's all right. I only need a little help, and I can make it to the room next door. It had a washbasin, didn't it?" "Yes...." Nephrite looked to the ceiling. "Zoisite, take Jadeite to get washed up." He turned and walked to the door. "Goodnight." And he was gone. Zoisite watched Nephrite leave, then came to Jadeite's side, offering from his robe of sheets a fine-fingered hand. Jadeite took it, and allowed himself to be hauled from the bed. It took a bit of effort, Zoisite being the smaller of the two, but soon Jadeite was standing on his own shaky legs. He remained motionless for a moment, hand on Zoisite's shoulder, only conceding to walk when the other started to squirm. Slowly, swaying, tripping, the two made their way out of the room, creaking down the hall to the left until they reached their destination. The tiny room was nearly pitch black, the light from the little port hole window being minimal at best. Nevertheless, Jadeite stumbled in, falling to his knees by the washbasin. While his head rested on the cool porcelain lip, he brought one dithering hand to the faucet's knobs, turning them until water flowed. Zoisite waited, watching the other as he brought dripping hands to his face and mouth. Then, deciding Jadeite had had enough time to slake his thirst, Zoisite came to his side, pulling up a wooden stool to sit nearby. Jadeite lifted his face from the sink and regarded the little king. Zoisite was staring at him with that same dark intensity he'd witnessed in the forest. It was a sunken wordlessness, and it darkened Zoisite's eyes to a black without reflection. It remained though for only a few moments, when Zoisite broke the silence: "Why were you making that noise back then?" "Isn't it obvious?" Jadeite was irritated. "I couldn't breathe." "Why?" "I don't know!" he gestured his annoyance, sending droplets of water spraying everywhere. "I woke up, and I couldn't breathe, that's all." "But it stopped when Nephrite arrived?" "Yes, it did." Zoisite thought for a moment, deciding on another angle. "Do you remember taking a fall?" "A fall? From where?" "The stairs." "No...." Jadeite was looking at him with more earnestness than before. "Though that would explain why my back hurts so much." Zoisite leaned closer, apparently given what he wanted. His eyes were wide and sparkled with a frank, ominous gravity. His mouth parted in a little half-smile, as though he knew something and was excited about sharing it. "Oh, Jadeite, I think they're trying to kill you." "What? Who is?" The seriousness with which Jadeite had been listening to the other king vanished in a huff of further exasperation. He turned back to the sink, muttering, "There's nobody here but us." "Oh no, oh no, I think we're sharing this house." Zoisite nodded to emphasize his point. "How else do you explain the food? The running water?" He moved closer still, until his nose was almost touching Jadeite's. "They've come to me, too. Though I don't think they were trying to hurt me. But with you, I think they are." "What are you talking about? You mean you saw someone?" "No no... you can't see them. At least, I can't. But didn't you feel it?" "Feel what?" "Their hands on your throat?" Jadeite sighed and patted Zoisite on the head. "All I could feel was that I couldn't breathe. It was probably just phlegm or something of the like. You, Zoisite, seem a slightly worse off than me." Zoisite was not amused. "I'm feeling a little better now," Jadeite said. As though to illustrate, he teetered to his feet. "I'm going back to bed." "What? You can't go back there alone!" "Well, I'm not letting you stay around." He started to walk, slowly and unsteadily, out into the hall. "Where is Kunzite, anyway?" "Asleep." "You should be too." Zoisite followed Jadeite out into the hall, frowning. "I know you don't believe me," he said as Jadeite reached his room. "What would you rather I do, Zoisite?" Jadeite said. "Agree and say that someone who I haven't seen is trying to kill me? Go to bed." With that, he disappeared, closing the door behind him. Zoisite stood for a moment, shoulders low in dejection. He'd come on too fast; he hadn't explained enough. But how was he to explain something that he himself was unsure of? There were gaps in his understanding, great holes that made his convictions sound idiotic. Perhaps he should just go to bed. To ease his worries, he compromised with himself. Tomorrow, while the others would looking for firewood, proper cutlery, and other necessities, he'd speak to Luna. Doubtless, the cat would refuse to bend under his inquisition. But nevertheless, Kunzite was right: if she wanted to leave anytime soon, she'd have to start sharing her knowledge. Somewhat satisfied, Zoisite arrived at his own room and crawled back into bed, returning the sheet he'd been wearing to its proper place. Kunzite was lying on his side, and Zoisite nestled himself neatly into the concave formed by the silver king's body. Tomorrow, he promised himself, would be a better day. HELLO NEIGHBOUR Chapter Seven by Soylent Green Even the arrival of dawn had brought with it the promise of a better day. This was the day after; the forest had been pioneered, the house discovered. And as the waking sun spanned the bedspread and lit the insides of Zoisite's closed eyelids a glowing orange, a strange familiarization spread through him. He remembered last night, the awkwardness he'd felt with Kunzite, and his odd encounter with Jadeite. Yet now, as his opening eyes were presented with the winking icicles just outside the bedroom window, he felt something entirely different. Something he hadn't felt since his initial awakening here. He felt good. He remembered the promise he'd made himself that night. He'd sequester Luna, ask her anything she knew about this place. He remembered the fear and resolution with which he's made this decision, his desperation to be gone from this place and back into the familiar. But now, as the sun warmed the blanket under which he lay, these demons seemed far from him. The muffled sounds of Jadeite's asphyxiation, and the sensation of fingers on his own throat yesterday afternoon; they should be frightening him. He should not want to lay in bed. But he did. * * * * Jadeite was sick after his breakfast of bread and cheese. While he was bent double over the sink, Nephrite went outside in search of firewood that could be used to fuel the stove. He said he may not be back for a while; there was no axe to be found. All were discontented with their filthy uniforms; wishing that this house that seemed to provide everything would at least provide clothing. Kunzite had suggested with some distaste that if all else failed, the uniforms should be washed in the bath and hung to dry. Dismally, the others had agreed. Now Jadeite knelt upon the floor, head before the washbasin. He felt better than he had last night; the food he'd managed to keep down for all of ten minutes had at least leant him a sense of strength. His back still ached, and in the little flecked mirror, he could count the line of bruises running up his spine. But the memory of such a fall was gone for good. The padding of feet caused him to raise his head. In walked Zoisite, again in a sheet (his uniform was drying over the side of the tub). He had recently bathed, his damp hair beginning to dry into wild, flying curls. His cheeks were flushed healthily, so unlike the wraith-eyed apparition who'd spoke to him last night. He was watching Jadeite with a look of sympathy, but there was a knot in his brow and a focus in his eyes that told Jadeite that the fantastic claims that had been made last night may not be over with. "Where did you leave Luna?" Jadeite asked. "Kunzite-sama has agreed to watch her for now," Zoisite replied, retrieving his clothes and testing the cuffs for dampness, finding none. He was in good spirits this morning. Kunzite had been particularly doting, following him around the house as though in silent atonement for the night before. "Has Nephrite returned yet?" "No." Zoisite slipped about the corner of the room, dropping the sheet and pulling on his uniform. The boots, he decided, could wait; his socks were rather shocking. Dressed, he returned to Jadeite's side. The blond king had turned around, and for the first time, Zoisite saw the line of deep purple blotches paralleling Jadeite's back. "My.... Does it hurt?" "Not much," Jadeite lied as he faltered to his feet. Zoisite didn't like the bruises; the sun from the porthole window fell upon them improperly. They should be kept covered, for their unsightliness did not bend to the gentle congruity of the morning. A fluttery feeling- not worry exactly- caused Zoisite to shift at the sight of them. "You still don't remember falling?" he asked. "Not at all." Jadeite straightened and drew on his top. Then he turned. "Zoisite.... Last night, you said some things... I'm not certain what you meant." Zoisite remained still, waiting for Jadeite to continue rather than prompting him. "You said... someone was trying to kill me?" His words were not mocking, just uncertain. Zoisite felt suddenly ill. He hadn't hoped to avoid this. But with the brightness of the sun and the seeming rectification it brought with it, there had been a brief thought in Zoisite's mind that perhaps... there was no need to bring it up again. With a doleful frown, he sighed. "Yes, I said that." "You meant it?" His face sank even more. "Yes, I meant it." "Well then, who, may I ask, is trying to kill me?" "I already told you. I can't see them, I don't know what they are, but I know they're in this house. They've come to me, Jadeite." "Yesterday afternoon in the hallway." "Yes." "Listen...." Jadeite paused to fasten his belt. "I don't remember falling. And I don't know why I choked last night. And I don't know why the pantry is always full. So, any proposition you or I make will sound equally ridiculous, simply because we haven't a clue." Zoisite nodded darkly. "I suppose that's the easiest way to say it." Jadeite chuckled. "It's rather funny, you know." He started to smile. "Back in the Kingdom, we fought alongside monsters and knelt before a demon queen, simply because we couldn't think of a better life. But now...." he gestured with his arms, "here is a better life. And it terrifies us." "Yes." Zoisite nodded slowly, chuckling a bit himself. "I suppose." * * * * Kunzite looked towards the door as Zoisite entered the room. The young king stopped to briefly regard Luna, who stared at him from a pile of cushions. She then dropped her head and returned to her napping. The parlor was even dustier than the bedrooms, and the windows could not be opened. Yet Luna seemed the least fussy in this room; the burgundy sofa had become her new bed. "Kunzite-sama," said Zoisite. The title sounded out of place here, but Zoisite wasn't sure what else to call him. "How are you feeling?" Kunzite asked in reply. He'd been asking that a lot this morning. "I feel... good," Zoisite decided. The arm that Kunzite passed around his waist was received with a supple wave that traveled through Zoisite's frame, something that felt quite nice. Realizing he had nothing further to say, he simply rested his head at the base of Kunzite's throat. The rough brush of fabric there was unfamiliar, and as he turned his head, he noticed why. "Kunzite-sama, your uniform." "Pardon?" "Your uniform clasp; you never fasten it." Kunzite bend his head, as though noticing for the first time his fully-buttoned collar. A gloveless had went to the clasp, and hovered there undecidedly. "I... imagine I'd surprise you." "I think you look better with it undone," Zoisite said, grinning slightly. With a flick of his wrist, the clasp was unfastened. He looked up, watching with curiosity the expression on Kunzite's face. The silver king's head was cocked and his eyebrows knotted, as though he didn't know what to make of this rigmarole. Strange. Suddenly, Zoisite's attention was drawn away from Kunzite's peculiar expression, past his shoulder, to where Luna sat upon the couch. No longer was she lying sedate and oblivious, but rather she was watching them intently, hackles fluffed, claws tatting at the fabric of the sofa. "What's gotten into you?" Zoisite asked. Luna didn't answer, merely summoning from her throat a low, vibrating growl. Her claws worked even more furiously. Kunzite turned then, casting a brief glance in her direction. There was a minute exchange, through the eyes only, that nonetheless caused the cat to settle down once again, sheathing her claws. Zoisite looked from Luna to Kunzite, entertained by the thought that perhaps, a long time ago, Kunzite had kept animals. However, Luna was still glaring at Zoisite; whatever had disturbed her just then was still bothering her now. But he wasn't going to let it bother him. Perhaps he should leave. Zoisite excused himself, intimating that he should best eat breakfast before he got too hungry. In truth, it was a legitimate excuse; his stomach churned nothing but acid. Kunzite withdrew his arm, he and Luna watching as Zoisite left the room. One hallway lead to the kitchen, and it was bright and spacious now. Zoisite preferred it this way. As he entered the stone-tiled kitchen, he hopped a bit, started by the cold of the floor. A quick glance revealed the room to be empty. Nephrite, no doubt, would still be out gathering fallen branches and twigs, and upstairs, the sounds of Jadeite drawing water could be heard. It took both hands to swing the heavy storage door open, and it gave slowly, bringing with it the smell of wood and cheese, all against a base tang of moisture. There were chewy apple slices towards the back, Zoisite remembered, and he skittered barefoot into the even cooler pantry. Ideally, what he needed was a flame of some sort. However, from the light of the kitchen window he could see the dried fruit, set back on the splintery wooden shelf. He stepped further into the room, mildly disgusted by the amount of dust and collected on his toes. Nevertheless, the apples were at arm's length now. As he reached for them, a sound, not unlike the wail of a cat, made him pause. Then there was a gust of air; his flighting senses registered the moving panel of light, growing smaller and smaller. Then, with a heavy, pressurized whuffing sound, the wood door slammed shut, and the tiny room was dark. Zoisite breathed in quickly, stepping back automatically as the blackness took his sight from him. Suddenly, he could not remember the pantry's size, nor where the shelves lay. He stumbled forward blindly, recalling that the door should be right in front of him. Yet, as he reached, his hands came into contact with cool class. Pickle jars. He turned again, extending his arms. Bread shelf. Again and again he turned, each item he touched at becoming anything but the door. He withdrew his hands; even the floor beneath his bare feet did not feel as it should. He felt he should call for help, but as he opened his mouth, he felt himself swallowing, the words unable to form. It was with a sinking resignation that he knew what was coming next. Instantly, the room was alive. He recognized this presence, like a repeating thoroughbass playing quietly at first, then louder and louder as the invisible hands drew near. Though now, in the darkness, they seemed all the more real, as there was no sight to disprove their physical touch. As they passed over Zoisite's face, he moaned, trying to shrink away. But they were behind him too; cool palms pressed against his back. Then he realized, this was not like the hallway; he was not out in the open where all could see. They had isolated him this time, out of sight, and now there was more than one. His knees started to give way, and as he fell back, waiting arms caught him. HELLO NEIGHBOUR Chapter Eight by Soylent Green "What do you have with you?" "It's a flower." "You brought it back?" Zoisite nodded, smiling a little as he unfolded his hand and revealed the slightly crumpled blossom. It wasn't exactly like the flowers that grew here in the Dark Kingdom. Those flowers barely grew at all, their movements more of a slithering up from the ground. Their petals were different too, sticky and rubbery. But the one he held now had little feather-petals and didn't weigh a thing. "I pulled it off the tree." "Idiot." Kunzite placed a hand on Zoisite's head. "You were supposed to be keeping watch on Endymion, not picking flowers." "You were the one who lost sight of him, not I." "Perhaps if you had been watching too, I might have had the opportunity to blink once and a while without losing sight of him." Kunzite's tone was light, so Zoisite didn't lower his eyes. It was rare these days to hear him joking; he hadn't been as enthusiastic about these missions since he'd heard of Beryl's plans. When they were alone, he had told Zoisite of how foolish he thought these designs on Serenity were. "I thought since visits to Earth may stop fairly soon, I should bring back something." Zoisite started to pull off the petals, but stopped himself. "They aren't 'visits'." "You know what I meant." Zoisite thought Kunzite might say something in return, not a joke this time. But he remained wordless and took a few paces away. Zoisite followed, for he really didn't like it when Kunzite moved away so silently. He stopped about a foot behind the silver king. "Ku-- !" Zoisite squeaked as Kunzite, in one fluid movement, turned and swept Zoisite up against his chest. He held he young king tightly, stroking his back with one hand and resting his cheek on Zoisite's crown. "Kunzite-sama?" Zoisite's voice was muffled. There was a pause, and then Kunzite was in motion once again, loosening his grip. He looked down at Zoisite, his eyebrows raised in a manner that eased the shadows under his eyes. He looked younger. Zoisite felt himself blushing, and now he did look at the floor. "You never do that, Kunzite-sama." "You don't like it?" "Oh, no no, I do. I...." He trailed off, turning his attention to the now very wrinkled blossom he held. "What kind is it?" Kunzite asked suddenly. The question was unexpected, and Zoisite responded only by examining the flower more closely. "I'm not sure," he said, thumbing the petals. "I think I've forgotten." * * * * Nephrite arrived through the front door, arms full of twigs and branches, growling about the 'bugger who'd bolted the back entry'. His eyes were clearly searching for Zoisite, but when they couldn't find him, he vented his frustrations on Jadeite. Then he stormed through the hallways into the kitchen, leaving a trail of leaves and melting snow in his wake. Jadeite, for a lack of anything better to do, followed. When he joined Nephrite, he noticed with mild shock that the other king had cast his load of wood all over the table, along with all the filth he had brought with it. "You'd think in such a forest there'd be more firewood," he muttered. "But of course not. It's all soaked and rotten in the thaw." "I still don't understand why we need firewood," said Jadeite. "It's perfectly warm in here." "You would prefer to have a cooked meal, wouldn't you?" "Who's going to cook it?" Nephrite fell silent for a moment, frowning. "I had assumed Zoisite would." "What? You'd trust Zoisite with cooking?" "Well, he is the most domestic of us." "Domestic?" "All right, then. He is going to cook as punishment for locking me outside." Nephrite began peeling the leaves from the branches on the table. "Locking you outside?" "Yes. I left the back entry open for a reason." "And instantly you assume Zoisite locked it?" Jadeite joined him in the leaf removal. "Are you being his advocate?" "You have a habit of blaming him, don't you?" Nephrite 'hmph'-ed and tossed some loose wisps of hair over his shoulder. Jadeite paused in his task and raised his head to regard the other king. "Why is that?" Nephrite stopped as well. "Why is what?" "That you talk to him that way. I've seen it." Jadeite fell silent. Nephrite was giving him a dark look, the leaves making 'crunch-crunch' noises in his hand. Instantly Jadeite wished he hadn't been so inquiring. "Then listen." Nephrite shook his handful of leaves for emphasis. "When you watch an officer who has been part of the forces for no more than a month ascend in rank until he is nearly matched to you, simply because of his relations to another officer who surpassed you in rank, then ask me again." "Oh," Jadeite said finally. He turned his head to look out the window, noticing only now the clouds that had come over. Then he spoke again, "But mind you, he did play his part in the fighting." Nephrite glared at him, and instantly Jadeite cast his eyes down. "I'm taking some food out," said the auburn-haired king, turning towards the pantry door. He grasped the wooden handhold and pulled, his back straining a little more than usual against it. Finally it gave, air coming out of it in a sizable blast. Nephrite swung the door open fully and strode into the cramped space. "My God!" The loudness of Nephrite's exclamation was enough to make Jadeite drop the leaves he'd collected all over the floor. He crossed the kitchen in two strides, grabbing onto the storage door frame to stop himself from running into the other king. "What is it!?" he asked, Nephrite blocking his view. Suddenly, the latter stooped, and then started to back out. Jadeite scuttled a few steps in reverse, allowing Nephrite room for his clumsy retreat. "What is..." Jadeite began, only now realizing that Nephrite was dragging something. Peering over the other's shoulder, he at last got a good look at what it was. "My God!" The repetition would have been amusing, had it not been Zoisite retrieved from the pantry. Nephrite let go and stood up, examining from his full height the limp form sprawled across the stone tile. Jadeite's breath caught in his throat, and he crouched down beside the young king. "He's not dead, is he?" Jadeite asked, his voice high and whispering. His hands hovered uselessly over Zoisite's body, unsure in his shock of what to look for. "No, no," Nephrite said, stooping again. Making up his mind, he seized Zoisite's collar and hoisted him into a sitting position. "Wake up," he commanded, shaking the narrow shoulders. Zoisite's head merely fell forward, his form even more slack than it had been before. "Stop that," Jadeite hissed. "You'll injure him!" "I think he already is." Nephrite laid him back down on the floor. "How long do you suppose he's been in there?" "Can't be that long; I spoke to him earlier this morning." "I'll go find Kunzite," Nephrite declared. His voice was low and steady, as though he'd pulled out a bundle of potatoes rather than the third king. However, as he rose, Jadeite caught a glimpse of his eyes, whose brows were knit tightly, and whose shadow hid the alarm in the gaze. As Nephrite left the room, Jadeite turned back to Zoisite, unsure of what he should be doing. He sat there for a moment in silence, watching with parted lips the minute rise and fall of Zoisite's chest. The young king's face was nearly grey, and Jadeite reached forward on impulse to brush away the long bangs. His fingers snagged in Zoisite's hair, at what he thought to be a particularly stubborn knot. But when he withdrew his hand, his fingers were sticky. "Oh, not this again," he muttered, wiping his hand unconsciously on his uniform trousers. This time, he discovered, the blood had run back into Zoisite's hair, matting it with little red ribbons. However, this was not all. With Zoisite's long neck thrown back, the red welts on his throat had become visible. It had taken Jadeite a few moments to notice them, but once noticed, he could help but stare. Those hadn't been there this morning, he was sure of it. Curious, he delicately probed beneath Zoisite's collar with his fingers. The marks did not end there, but trailed down beyond Jadeite's access. He restrained himself for searching farther; Kunzite walking in to discover Jadeite crouching over a half-dressed Zoisite was an incident to be prudently avoided. Nevertheless, Jadeite found himself staring harder. The more he looked, the more fierce these marks seemed to appear. They striped the skin at the base of Zoisite's throat, nearly purple now, as though changing colour as the seconds went by. In the wake of his patience, the shapes of the imprints were becoming more and more definite. He watched with fascination, his breath caught in his throat, bending over to get a closer look. What had before been a series of red bruises had now become three fingers, and a thumb. * * * * It was still daylight when Zoisite opened his eyes. His vision was blurred, but he knew right away where he was. The counterpane was drawn right up to his chin, and the light from the bedroom windows made it glow. Everything was white, so different from what he last remembered. What did he last remember? In truth, he couldn't remember a thing, and the thought made him a little giggly. He sighed and settled back into the sheets. Perhaps he'd just slept in. No... no, he'd spoken to Jadeite today, he was sure of it. And Kunzite too. And Luna was-- There was the sound of splashing water, and as he looked up again, a different kind of white filled his vision. He heard himself laughing a little as Kunzite's hair fell across his face. The other was leaning over him, passing a wet cloth across his forehead. This made him a little irritated. Why was his forehead getting sponged? Was he sick? "Kunzite-sama..." he mumbled. "Zoisite?" Kunzite sat back and regarded Zoisite with a look of surprise. Then his face softened. "Zoisite." He leaned forward again, touching his brow to Zoisite's. The kiss he offered was very delicate, very gentle. Almost sad. "I'll be back shortly," Kunzite said suddenly, rising. "I'm going to get some fresh water." "Wait, Kunzite-" But he was gone. Zoisite squirmed a bit under the sheets; his joints were aching. Fed up, he threw the blankets back and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He didn't feel sick.... Just a little tired. His uniform, he spied, was hung over a chair near the door, right next to the mirror. It was an ugly old mirror, fogged and warped, but at least he'd be able to see just how he looked at this moment. The room felt cold to Zoisite (Since when had he removed his uniform?), and he hurried over and snatched his clothing off the chair. In the swirl of fabric and the speed of his movements, he had at first not noticed his reflection. It was only when he stopped, hands holding his jacket in mid-swoop, that he saw the bruises. His skin, typically so pale, was covered with red and purple blotches. Handprints. He reached up and touched one cautiously. It was tender; it was new. He swallowed. Turning around dumbly, he sat down upon the chair, uniform bunched up in his lap. Outside, he could see the trees bending in a slow wind, more snow falling from them onto the ground below. He didn't feel cold anymore, though his hands had gone clammy. He didn't look down at himself, not did he turn and face the mirror again. "Zoisite," came a tiny voice. Zoisite screamed, leaping up from the chair. As his pounding heart slowed, he saw Luna emerge from her hiding spot. "How long have you been here?" His voice was shaking. Luna chose to ignore his, her little copper eyes roving up and down his body. Suddenly self-conscious, he held his crumpled uniform against himself. "There's no point in being bashful," said the cat. "Go away," groaned Zoisite, sitting down on the floor this time. "I know what happened to you." "I said go away!" He took a halfhearted swipe at Luna. "I want to see Kunzite-sama." "Oh no, I don't think you do." Luna sat down in front of him, and began cleaning her paws. "What?" She straightened herself and looked up at Zoisite. Her eyes seemed so human for an animal. "Zoisite, this place is not safe." "I know that," he said miserably. "Not just for you," she continued, "but for all of us. Listen to me, demon." She strained to get closer to Zoisite's face. "The only reason I have to help you is that I shall be helping myself in turn." "What do you mean?" "I there are things I can tell you about this place." "What?" Zoisite became suddenly focused. "What do you know? Why haven't you told us-- " "Shhhh!" she hissed. "Kunzite's returning. I shall talk to you some other time." "Why can't Kunzite hear?" "Will you hush! I'll talk to you later!" said Luna, as she bounded off. "Find me when you are alone." HELLO NEIGHBOUR Chapter Nine by Soylent Green This night, Zoisite was kept awake by the sounds of the house. The creaks in the baseboards made him jump, while the barely audible sighs in the corridor kept him from returning to a state of calm. He found himself straining to listen to them, ears tuned so unremittingly that silence became a noise as well, and his hands gripped the blanket tighter. Surely all houses made noises like this. In the Dark Kingdom, the sound of Metallia's breathing could be heard everywhere. Yet then, at least Zoisite knew where it was coming from. Here, it wasn't anything so patently ghostly- no voices or footsteps - and he found it very hard to close his eyes. Some assurance came from Kunzite, whose warm heavy arm over Zoisite's waist promised him safety. But not peace of mind. For tonight, Zoisite was profoundly nervous. As soon as Kunzite was asleep, Zoisite was to seek Luna. And now Kunzite was asleep. Finally working up his resolve, Zoisite sat up, carefully slithering out of his entrapments. Morally, this should not be happening, he thought as he looked down at Kunzite. Going off in secret like his. Kunzite had been pleasantly affectionate that evening, evidently disturbed by the damage done to Zoisite that afternoon. He hadn't said a word about it, though. Zoisite reached toward Kunzite's hair, then stopped and withdrew his hand. Now was not the time for this. He dressed silently, drawing on his pants and jacket, forlornly wishing for something different to wear. His leather boots sat near the door, collapsed in on themselves as though asleep as well. On an afterthought, he pulled them on. They'd make noise, but who was he to say he wouldn't need them? As he opened the bedroom door, Zoisite sent a glance in Kunzite's direction. The silver king usually woke at anything, as though never really asleep at all. But these past two nights, he had slept like the dead, his obliviousness allowing Zoisite his escape. Out in the hall, Zoisite became wary. Luna had said to meet him downstairs, but if a simple trip to the kitchen had put him in those unseen hands, imagine what a trip through the sleeping house would do. To his right was Nephrite's bed chamber, through whose door no noise could be heard. Farther down the hall, Jadeite's door was cracked open slightly, revealing little more than the foot of his bed and the light of the night sky. His door had been left ajar on purpose; he also seemed a favourite target within this household. Zoisite passed rooms by, his boots tapping lightly on the floorboards. His night vision seemed gone for good; he veritably blundered through the darker parts of the hall. He crept by the wash room, the squat form of the basin making him jump. Its ceramic gleamed in the light from the window, the shadows making it seem lopsided. Or melted. He reached the stairwell, the huge windows of the foyer lighting his way down in blue and silver. From his vantage, Zoisite looked down to the main floor where the massive throw rug was sprawled. Though scuffed and faded, Zoisite had noticed from the very beginning the intricate pattern woven into it. It had appeared to be a web of curled vines, dark leaves and tendrils sweeping out to lock with others. From the ground, it looked confused and matted, too complicated to be of any aesthetic appeal. But now from the upper landing, Zoisite had a topmost view of it. What he hadn't noticed before was a softer, more secondary design in it. In pale shades of pink and gold, a figure bent among the black vines. Man or woman, adult or child, Zoisite could not identify for all the tendrils looping about it. They held the figure suspended, tangling round its arms and legs, obscuring its face in two bold stripes. It was dizzying to watch, and Zoisite lowered his eyes. He took the stairs one at a time, the boards groaning under the carpet. He winced each time they did; this was too loud for his liking. Slowly, painstakingly, he reached the bottom landing. The foyer down here was dim, the blackness of the hallway entrances so thick it seemed solid. Zoisite avoided looking at them; any space that he could not decipher with his eyes held no good promises. Quickly, head down, he scurried across the vestibule, through the wide archway that lead into the parlor. "Where have you been?" a little voice hissed from somewhere on the floor. "Don't do that, you little bitch!" Zoisite whispered harshly at Luna, placing his hand over his chest for emphasis. "I'm a cat," Luna muttered indignantly, "not a dog." Her crescent moon emblem flashed in the window's light as she hopped up onto the sofa. "I've been waiting forever." "This was the soonest I could be here." "Perhaps had you not chosen entertain your Kunzite-sama beforehand, we might have gotten this over with earlier." Luna settled herself down on the embroidered cushion, pulling at the tassels with her claws. For once Zoisite was glad of the dark, for his cheeks were flaming. "You -" "I can hear everything in this house, Zoisite," Luna interrupted. "There's very little that goes unnoticed by me." "That's rude." "Rude?" Luna squeaked emphatically. "You blow up my home in the middle of a ball, and you have the audacity to call me rude?" "All right." Zoisite narrowed his eyes. "I didn't come here to debate the will and wanton of my queen. You said- " A low groan, much louder than those of the nightly house shiftings, stopped him in mid-sentence. He and Luna sat silent, heads up, both listening long after the sound had ceased. "You said you had something to tell me," Zoisite said, this time whispering. "I do." Luna hopped off the sofa. "But not in here. Come on...." She trotted quickly, the bob of her black tail twitching like a flag. She lead Zoisite out of the parlor, across the foyer, and to the front door. "Open it," she said curtly. "You want us to go outside?" "Yes," she replied evenly. Zoisite waited, mouth open, but Luna didn't elaborate further. Sighing, he gripped the big handle, chilled from the night outside, and heaved one door open. Luna slipped between his feet, pattering out of the house. Zoisite followed. The moon was starting to half itself, no longer bright and full. Nevertheless, the light from it lit the clearing in front of the house, exaggerating every muddy bump in the snow, tangling the branches of trees together. It seemed that winter was on its way out; the air was cold but not bitter. Zoisite was thankful he had worn his boots. "Over here," came Luna's voice. She had perched herself on the splintered stump of a tree, about fifteen paces away from the house. From the height of her roost, she could face Zoisite eye-to-eye. He came forward, leaning towards her, his manner as silent and careful as it would be indoors. Luna's eyes were glittering in the moonlight, the pattern on her forehead shiny as a coin. "I had not been certain of this until yesterday," she began. "Though I had fears of it the moment we awoke here. This may sound peculiar, but I must start from the beginning." She paused, seemingly for nothing more than emphasis. "The truth is, you were not the first to attack the Moon Kingdom." Zoisite didn't know whether he was surprised or not. Luna continued, lapsing into history. "When I was not much more than a kitten, and Queen Serenity was enjoying the first days following her coronation, a huge cloud filled our sky. I did not know what it was, for I had always been told the Kingdom was far too out of reach for adverse weather." She smiled a bit, chuckling to herself. "Imagine my alarm to discover it wasn't a thundercloud at all. No indeed; it was Metallia." Now Zoisite was surprised. "Yes, Metallia had come to us once before she came with you. This first time, there was no Queen Beryl, no Dark Kingdom. Just Metallia and whatever human forces she could dredge up from Earth. "She was young then, if such a thing could be called 'young'. Her power wasn't nearly as mature as it was when she took Beryl under her wing. Indeed, she made a mess; smashed a few towers, killed a few soldiers. But she was laughably outmatched, little more than a hurricane, really. Serenity took up that ginzuishou with such an authoritative air... I even fancied I saw her smiling...." Luna was off in her own story now, barely noticing Zoisite who stood incredulous before her. ".... Serenity used the ginzuishou to 'diffuse' Metallia. Evaporated that thing into thin air, she did. At least, she thought she did, though I suppose a later attack would prove her wrong. However, for the time being, the demon had been defeated. "Serenity, though, took pity on the humans Metallia had brought with her. Just misguided boys really." Luna paused and looked up at Zoisite. "She tried to help them - the ones who were left alive - to regain the memories that Metallia seemed to have wiped out. But nothing could be done; the dark energies had been infused within them, beyond reach." Luna looked at Zoisite again. "They were violent and cruel-tempered; some even carried a bit of Metallia's magic. When left to wander, they attacked the subjects. Serenity had no choice but to end this, and she called on her advisors for help." Luna looked wistfully at the ground. "I do wish Artemis were here; he was a year older and knew more about these dealings." Zoisite shivered and folded his arms. He didn't see the point in all this storytelling, but patience told him to continue listening to the cat. "From what I heard and what I saw," Luna said, "the decided fate of the humans involved the ginzuishou once again. Serenity used its power to send them far away - not to Earth - but somewhere else. Somewhere alone, somewhere isolated, where they could stay with food and shelter and never, ever reach anybody else." She lifted her head. "Somewhere a lot like this." All the blood dropped from Zoisite's head as he turned suddenly, looking back at the house. "Here...?" Luna nodded. "The same power I felt from them in Serenity's kingdom, I feel it here too." "But..." Zoisite turned around again, feet slipping in the snow. "How did we get here?" Luna chuckled again, this time with a hint of bitterness. "That... was a mistake." "What?" "That's right," said Luna, "this was all a mistake. You four were supposed be locked away with Metallia and Beryl. I was supposed to be saved. But do remember that when Serenity was doing this, she was dying...." * * * * Nephrite turned in his bed. The sky was still dark; he could sleep a little longer. He sighed and closed his eyes, trying to retrieve the dream he'd been having. It wasn't of Beryl, or youma, or the Kingdom at all. No, tonight it was of a pale-haired woman - he'd forgotten her name. She used to hang about his father's farm during those distant days on Earth. Rather pretty she was; he didn't know where she came from nor where she went at the end of the day, but when he was out in the field, she'd be there watching him. What a funny thing to remember at a time like this; it seemed as though his joining the Dark Kingdom had pushed away such memories. Evidently though, it did not. And he gratefully returned to sleep. * * * * "Well this is fabulous, isn't it?" spat Zoisite. He kicked his foot into the snow. "What are we supposed to do?" "I'm not finished yet," Luna said heavily. "These humans, we haven't just 'moved in' with them, you see. If that were the case, we'd be able to see them. Talk to them. Fight them. However, our arrival has had them... er...." She tapered off, then tried a different angle. "You see, the spell that sent us here- albeit by accident- is the same spell that sent them here. It required isolation, and above all, solitude. Which means, they were pushed out to make room for us." "Pushed out to where?" She became excited. "Don't you understand? This is all make believe! This place doesn't exist in any real word; it was made by the ginzuishou! Those humans, in being removed from this place, have been set free! Where they are now, they are able to go anywhere they want. The problem lies in that they don't know where to go. They have no recollection of Earth, no homes to go to. This is their home. So they stay here." "And we are the interlopers," Zoisite put forth. Luna paused, casting her eyes to the sky as though for strength. "I'm not sure it's so simple." She looked as Zoisite, measuring him from top to bottom. Then she cleared her little cat throat. "I think they like you, Zoisite." Zoisite's eyes veritable launched from his head. "Pardon?" Luna remained calm. "You're young and you're pretty. They haven't seen a woman in years, and quite frankly, you come very close." Zoisite huffed indignantly, but chose to listen. "You're vital, you're sensitive, you're everything they used to be. Whatever the reason, Zoisite, they seem quite interested in you." "I know that." He rubbed a bruise on his arm. "But their encounters with you never seem to last long. I'm not entirely sure why... but it most likely is due to the amount of power required to bridge the gap between their domain and our physical one. They have some magic, but not much. I do believe I know how they are solving this problem." Zoisite paled. "How?" "May I remind you that this is entirely my theory," Luna cautioned him. "Act on it and you may be making a terrible mistake." "Just tell me." "There are two people with whom you seem to get along. Kunzite... and that other one, Jadeite. Think first of what's happened to Jadeite. Since his arrival, he's managed to take an unprecedented dive off the stairwell, and choke on thin air in his sleep." Zoisite's breathing grew short. "And Kunzite?" "I don't know what is happening with him, but I can smell it when they attack you. That scent is all over him." "What do you mean?" Luna lowered her head, resigning at last. "I don't know. I can't explain this. I wish I knew how to get us out of this... I've tried calling out with every power I have, but no one answers. I just hope we're as much danger as I think we are." Zoisite looked down as well. The wind came through the trees, chilling him as though he wore no jacket at all. Belatedly, he noticed the hole in his boot, and stopped wondering why his toes were wet. "Then what am I supposed to do? If Kunzite's not safe...." "I didn't say that." Luna descended from her log. "Just be careful." "So that's it?" Zoisite demanded, stopping Luna with his boot. "That's all you have to offer? 'Be careful'? I thought when you called me out here, you might share with me a plan. You aren't very helpful." "What would you rather, Zoisite?" She raised her shrill voice. "Would you prefer not to know what is happening here? Knowledge is the first step to solution. I'd say we're doing mighty well for our second night. You just think yourself damn lucky that I was sent here with you." "You should have told Jadeite this!" "Do you think he'd believe it?" Luna said. "He's too busy convincing himself that this is better than your Dark Kingdom!" "I'll tell him, even if you won't." He turned defiantly, intending to walk back to the house as though enjoying some victory, though what exactly he wasn't sure. He marched up the stairs, forcefully clasping knob in his hand. Then he stopped. "What is it?" Luna asked. "Knob’s hot." HELLO NEIGHBOUR Chapter Ten by Soylent Green Luna saw Zoisite turn the knob and push the stiff door inward. It gave with a groan, as was appropriate for a house of this sort. She'd heard him say something into the door, breathy and soft, about the knob being hot. She moved to follow him as he stepped across the threshold, to tell him he was full of nonsense. But she should have known better. A chill, but not from the night, ruffled the fur between her ears. They promptly flattened themselves and the crescent moon on her brow glinted. It was then that she caught the brief and sickly scent of something burning. Bounding two steps forward, she faltered and moved back one. What was she afraid of? What indeed! As Zoisite disappeared through the doorway, Luna realized her hesitation had cost her. A sudden glare spilled from the windows and door, as though the house had suddenly opened its twenty-three eyes. Luna shied away from it, the glow turning her pupils into tiny slits. She backed up until her rear caught in the dogwood. Then, faster than the bat of an eye, the light was out again, and the house was dark and silent. Luna wasted no more time in irresolution. Charging forward, she slipped inside just as the door sifted shut. The smell was stronger in here, but there was no smoke, and no heat. "Zoisite!" she called out timidly. Her feet pattered softly in the foyer, and her whiskers bristled. But Zoisite was not there. * * * * For a moment, he didn't wonder where he was. The quilt beneath his cheek was soft and supple, molding to him, supporting him in as gentle an embrace as an inanimate object could provide. He knew he was no longer in the house, and that the cat was no longer by his side. But he was not lost. In fact, as he buried his face into the silken material, a familiar scent was drawn in with his breath. And he knew, at last, he was home. His room. Their room. His and Kunzite's, within the heart of the Dark Kingdom. It was just as he had left it the morning of the attack. So neat and so sparse, it barely looked inhabited at all. But the curving stone tendrils of the floor and ceiling were every bit as familiar as Zoisite's own face. He sat up, cautiously, slowly, too lost in wonderment and the warmth of memory to puzzle at how he'd gotten here. Perhaps, he thought to himself with only the slight sadness of fancy. Perhaps it never happened. Perhaps there was never a battle, never a house in the woods, and that Kunzite-sama was waiting to take him and hold him until the queen called from her throne. Even the old witch's claws would be a welcome sight right now. Smiling to himself he slid of his old bed, crossed the old room, and slipped out the old door. Striding down the polished hall, he goggled with inane smiles at the objects trivialized before but now gushed at in recognition. The door to the study, always shut. The bath into which Zoisite had difficulty venturing without blushing. The scuff on the floor, the stairs down into the open area. As he leaned against the gnarled railing and peered out over the main floor, he noticed a tiny form bent over a table, its shoulders hunched in earnest concentration. Zoisite marked the ash skin and ridiculous uniform. A servant youma. Clucking to himself in a feckless and unkingly fashion, Zoisite trampled down the wrought stairway. Tripping a few times, he skipped up to the youma's side. "You there," he said. "Have you seen..." he trailed off, then silenced. The youma did not lift her head, nor turn to acknowledge his presence. Zoisite tried again. "Excuse me." His words seemed loud, and in this large room whose cluttered architecture stifled the voice, an echo rang where there was none before. Refusing the unregal urge to reach out and tap the youma's shoulder, Zoisite instead paced around to look at her face. She was pretty, as most Kingdom demons were, her thin neck bent at an angle that revealed the pointed knobs of her spine. Her lips were parted to let the light touch the subtle tips of her fangs. But her eyes were closed, and no breath could be seen shifting her narrow ribcage. Her clawed hands gripped the table, but weakly, as though one prod could send her sighing to the ground. Zoisite stepped back, suddenly weak at the knees, the room rising and falling in front of his eyes. Before he had a chance to regain his balance, there came a loud noise- like hissing- and a bright light that blinded him. * * * * "Zoisite! Zoisite!" That high little voice, full of urgency. Two tiny prods dug into his shoulder blade, pummeling him into consciousness. As his head cleared, the pressure on his back became recognizable as two cat's paws. Zoisite opened his eyes, only to focus upon a row of dusty floorboards. The house. Oh God. He was back here again. An unexpected rage flared up inside him, and he jumped to his feet. "Watch where you step!" Luna's voice barked up at him. But Zoisite didn't listen, his fists trembling and his eyes tearing. In his state, the only words he could place together was a furious repetition of, "What happened? What happened?" "Will you hush?!" Luna hissed. "You'll wake the others... if they aren't awake already." Zoisite's wild stare snapped down upon the cat, and she flinched. "Luna," he whispered, one tear falling to make a dark spot on the floor. "Now stop that," Luna said, regaining her poise. "But I was back... in the Dark Kingdom. I was home...." He opened his hands, as if begging for a resolution. "Stop that," Luna repeated, a tiny cat smile on her tiny cat face. "I can tell you what happened. And it is good!" "What then?" asked Zoisite, suddenly weary. "Well," said Luna, the regular tone of mystery in her narration, "I think you just found the way out." Eliciting no reaction, she explained. "I hadn't dare hope that this would happen, because it happened merely by chance. Remember how I said this house was a creation? Every creation has its weaknesses. And for a brief few moments, you passed through." "You mean," Zoisite sat down on the floor, "I was truly in the Dark Kingdom? I truly left this house?" "Yes!" Luna smiled. "The very same thing happened to you that happened to the earlier prisoners within this house. Like them, you were pushed out of here with a fluctuation in the spell. But unlike them, you seemed to know where to go." "The Dark Kingdom." "The Dark Kingdom. Though I can't imagine what you did there, seeing as it was laid dormant by Serenity." "Of course," whispered Zoisite. "The Dark Kingdom sleeps; the ginzuishou did that. But.... I came back here?" He frowned. "That I can't explain," Luna shrugged. Then with fanned whiskers, "Perhaps you didn't want to leave your Kunzite-sama here." "So..." said Zoisite, in his own frame of thought, "there is a way out of here?" "Barely. What I mean is, this is impossible to predict. There's no way of telling whether or not it will even happen again!" "Never mind that!" Zoisite leaped to his feet. "Any weakness is bound to show itself again! I shall tell Kunzite-sama, and we will wait for another opportunity!" He took a short sprint to the stairs. "Wait!" Luna called. He halted and looked back. "Be careful what you tell your Kunzite-sama. Remember what I told you of him." A miffed expression crossed Zoisite's face, then his lip protruded reproachfully. "I should think I know more about Kunzite than you do." He turned and marched noisily up the stairs. * * * * Zoisite's eyes were aglow and he smiled all the way to the bedroom door, not caring if he woke the others. With this taste of home, frozen as it may have been, he was determined to nest there with Kunzite. At least they would be out of this goddamn house. Pulling open the door, his eyes were greeted by an empty, unmade bed. He traced across the dark floor boards to a shadow cast by the windows light. Suddenly cautious, Zoisite slipped into the room to take a look. By the window, Kunzite stood, clothed from the waist down, staring out at the tree-top silhouettes. "Kunzite-sama," said Zoisite softly. "I didn't know you were awake." "Nor I you," replied Kunzite, turning away from the window. The shadows covered the silver king's face, and for once, Zoisite could not see his eyes. He took a step forward. "Where were you going in your boots, Zoisite?" "I was...." Zoisite looked down, then up again. "I have something to tell you." "I should think so," Kunzite's strides were long, and with two of them, he had Zoisite trapped against the now-closed door. "Where have you been with your boots on?" "Kunzite-sama - " Zoisite forced a giggle into his voice. "Haven't you realized you're not safe here?" Kunzite's voice rose just a little. "Haven't you realized by now what could happen to you?" He reached out and grabbed Zoisite by the shoulders. Zoisite squirmed, eyes wide and bewildered. This wasn't Kunzite's touch. It grew tighter, each finger digging to the bone. "Kunzite-sama!" "You're careless. How dare you leave on your own like that?" Zoisite quit struggling, seized by a sudden foolhardiness. He said softly, "I don't need your permission to do such things." All of a sudden, his balance was lost, and he tumbled towards the wall. His cheekbone throbbed and he felt with trembling fingers the spot where Kunzite's hand had struck. "Kunzite-sama...." Kunzite's expression skewed, then softened, but only to be replaced by one of even greater ferocity. Zoisite cried as he was pulled into a suffocating embrace. He thrashed about, unable to breathe. "I didn't want to hurt you," Kunzite said into Zoisite's ear, his breathing hot and forceful. "You're so beautiful." With that, he pressed his face into Zoisite's hair, in turn crushing the young king's head into the base of his throat. Zoisite writhed and gagged; the smell of the house was all over Kunzite. He stank of it. Zoisite pushed away from him, suddenly aware, and absolutely terrified. But Kunzite kept him bound within his arms, relentless. "Zoisite, why are you struggling? We only want to hold you." Zoisite froze, then looked up at Kunzite's face. "'We?'" Suddenly, Kunzite's arms were loose, and Zoisite was released to stumble back against the door. There he remained, gasping, his heart in his throat. Kunzite seemed shocked, for he stood with his hands at his side, his eyes distant. Seeing his advantage, Zoisite rose and opened the door. "I shall spend the remainder of the night elsewhere, Kunzite-sama." Kunzite didn't move and didn't speak, even as Zoisite left the room and closed the door behind him. * * * * Zoisite didn't care what noise he made as he strode down the hall, what sleeping demons he awoke. "Oh Kunzite-sama," he whispered, chewing on his thumb, "it seems you will not be my protector here anymore." He reached the stairwell. "But I'll make sure they don't keep hold of you for long." Down the stairs he clattered, the shadows seeming to jump away from him as he moved. Luna still sat where he'd left her, wide-eyed at his sudden return. If she'd said anything to him at that very moment, he didn't hear it. Instead, he passed her by and disappeared down a hall. The kitchen was lit a dull grey by the small paned windows of its south wall. Zoisite's boots clacked on the brown tile, and the noise made him bolder still. In the dim light, the knife handles were little more than black wooden blobs protruding from the rack. But when he seized one and brought its friendly blade into view, its sharpness shone. How many strikes would it take to separate Kunzite from these phantoms? Zoisite did not know. But if he failed, one strike upon himself would send him as far as he wanted to go. HELLO NEIGHBOUR Chapter Eleven by Soylent Green Dawn seemed to come quickly, a band of crimson sky overtaking the night's deep blue. Zoisite watched the stars as they were put out one by one, pale sun still caught in the veil of trees. He's sat there all night in the parlor with Luna alert and silent beside him, evidently struck dumb by what the young king held in his hand. For there was clutched the kitchen knife, its blade teased at intervals by the tender flesh of his thumb. Not a word was spoken by him, for no one- not Luna, nor any other watching parties- must know of his paralyzed resolve. But what was he to do? When he had grabbed that knife in his fever, he had thought of death so readily - Kunzite's, his - anything that would send him away from the house. Had he not stopped at the landing to watch his hands shake, he might have ran up with the knife. Instead, he had turned back and sat down, back rigid, one hand going to his bruised cheek. The house, too, had been largely silent. Every so often there was a sigh of air, followed by a creak in the woodwork, accountable perhaps to an outside breeze. But nobody, not even Kunzite, moved within the upstairs rooms. With Luna's silence she seemed barely a presence. Zoisite felt alone within house, like a dueler standing a ten paces, pistol raised skyward. His adversary, though, had yet to appear. A loud crack sounded from behind. Zoisite leaped off his seat, one hand clinging to the knife, the other escaping to strike Luna across the nose. "Jadeite!" The blond king froze upon the stairs, flinching at the noise his foot had made upon it, and the reaction it had elicited from Zoisite. "Gomen...." He looked down at the step as though angry with it. "What are you doing down here?" Zoisite asked, trying the keep the quaver out of his voice. He realized with some shock the knife still clasped in his hand, and lowered it, ambivalently tucking it behind his back. "I should ask you the same thing," said Jadeite, reaching the bottom of the stairwell. He was barefoot and his uniform top was unbuttoned. His hair rose from his head in a great yellow mass, artfully sculpted by his pillow as he slept. He nodded to Zoisite. "Why are you holding a knife? Were you planning on eating the cat?" Luna gave him a baleful look. "I'll leave." She trotted off into the hall. Zoisite remained silent, looking at the points of his boots. He jiggled the knife in his hand, still keeping it behind his back. Jadeite persisted, "I only ask because I was planning on getting one of those myself." Zoisite's head snapped up. "What do you mean?" The blond king passed him by, walking to the sofa and sitting down ungraciously. The rising sun poured in through the tall windows, catching him in the eye and making him blink and scrub at his face. Then he turned to Zoisite. "When I awoke this morning, there were no blankets on my bed." Zoisite blinked at him. "I woke up because I was cold," Jadeite elaborated, "and I was cold because there were no sheets on my bed." He crossed his legs. "I rose from my bed to see if I had... er... kicked them off in my sleep. I couldn't find them. It was then that I discovered the real origin of my chill; the window was open. Just a little crack." Jadeite smiled softly. "Come here." With that, he leaped off of his seat, leading Zoisite with haste across the foyer. The young king let himself be dragged along, skipping a bit to match Jadeite's stride. They stopped within another room across the hall, a study with a similar set of high windows. Yet these were closely shrouded by trees, and the light was nowhere near as intense. Jadeite walked over to the windows and nodded upwards. "Have a look." Cautiously, Zoisite crept over, leaning close so his head was pressed against the cool glass. Craning his head, he looked up into the trees. Festooned among the branches were Jadeite's bed sheets, quietly waving in the breeze. There were three of them in total, a white undersheet, a heavier brown blanket, and a woven counterpane, which had escaped to hang precariously from a few snagging twigs. "I have a feeling that I'm not welcome anymore," said Jadeite, his breath fogging the window. Then he turned to Zoisite. "I can't believe I was so foolish as to ignore the... oddities... of this place. I was an idiot, to disregard the vice that I felt present from the moment we arrived. But I scolded myself for being afraid- even a little- for nothing could be more dangerous than Beryl's court." He smiled ruefully. "I had... I had hoped... that even though I was lost, at least I could live freely." Zoisite watched Jadeite silently. He continued, "But everything that has happened here makes it seem as though I have no place other than the Dark Kingdom." "Jadeite--" "And when I went to importune the help of the others, I found their doors locked shut...." "What?" "Nephrite's and yours, locked. That's why I came down here, to see if I could ask that cat if she knew of anything- " "Kunzite-sama!" Zoisite cried, leaping away from the window. He sprinted to the stairs, paused hesitantly with the kitchen knife in hand, then thundered his way up the spiral. * * * * Luna's head jerked up as she heard the footsteps galloping up the stairs. Deviating from her previous amble through a back corridor, she trotted out into the foyer. There she found Jadeite, standing listlessly with his arms at his side, looking with an artless bafflement at the place where Zoisite must have been standing a moment ago. "What happened here?" she asked, taking a glance at the upper floor landing. "I hadn't thought he was so agitated," answered the blond king enigmatically. Then, as though attempting to sort through his own thoughts, "There had been a... disturbance... upstairs, and I told Zoisite that the doors to the bedchambers were all- " "Wait!" Luna hissed, ears flattening. Jadeite fell silent, blinking at the cat. "Do you smell that?" she whispered. * * * * With the doors in the upper hallway shut, there was no light from the bedroom windows to brighten Zoisite's passage. He crept down the corridor, boots tapping lightly on the floor boards. Their bedchamber was the one at the very end of the hall, and had Kunzite indeed not stirred all night, he would still be within. Zoisite's palms were damp, and the wood of the knife handle slipped precariously. He passed Nephrite's room, its door dark and silent. For a moment, Zoisite was caught with the impulse to knock on it, to entreat Nephrite for help. But instead he continued, knowing solemnly that no help would come of opening that particular door. He walked on, reaching stealthily the door to his bedchamber. Here the light was at its weakest, shadows darkening the wood to black. His hands trembled and his stomach, mimicking his hands, threatened to jostle its contents upwards. His breathing slowed, and delicately, he placed his fingers on the door knob. It turned easily, soundlessly, not locked at all. Getting a better handle of the blade, Zoisite pushed his way inside, closing the door behind him. The curtains of the room were drawn, the light within gray and soft. After all that had transpired beforehand, Zoisite hadn't known what to expect. Yet upon a first, hasty glance, he announced to himself that he had not expected this. Kunzite was nowhere to be seen. Zoisite took a few cautious steps into the room, checking all the recesses that might serve to hide. The floor creaked beneath his feet and he winced. As he rounded the bed, he glanced up at the ceiling, assuring himself no matter where Kunzite had gone, this room was safe, and very empty. His boot caught on something - a fold in the rug, he supposed - and he brought his gaze down to the floor. "Oh!" The knife was nearly dropped. Collapsed upon the floor was Kunzite, eyes closed and breathing shallow. Zoisite's boot tip had tripped on the silver king's bare shoulder. Zoisite fell to his knees, placing the knife on the floor, and tentatively touched Kunzite's cheek, unsure of what to do. He thought fleetingly of Jadeite, abandoned so quickly down stairs. Perhaps now would be the time to seek help. If Nephrite was awake.... Kunzite did not stir. Zoisite, afraid to speak, hovered above with jittery limbs. Even if he succeeded in waking Kunzite, what was the guarantee that the silver king would not be in the same condition as he had been previously? Instinctively, Zoisite leaned back, fingering the knife for assurance. His knees ached from the prolonged crouch, but as he shifted to relieve the pain, Kunzite's left arm moved, slowly retracting itself. Zoisite froze, terrified to even reach for the knife as Kunzite's arm continued to flex gradually, sweepingly, his hand brushing Zoisite's feet just slightly. The latter held his breath and waited, petrified. Then suddenly, all was still again. * * * * The light from the sun, through his uncurtained window, blazed white in Nephrite's eyes. He shut them tight, reluctant to awaken so early. Even though he slept well, the nights here seemed exhausting and reproachfully short. He'd heard Jadeite rise but a short while earlier, and then a moment or so ago, more footsteps - most likely Zoisite's - were heard moving about the hall. But now the sun was heating his covers, and with a groan he slung his feet to the floor. He dressed, noting absently how warm it felt in his room. On the previous mornings here, he'd been made irritable by the waking chill. But today, even the floorboards seemed luxuriously heated. He decided to leave his boots for now; they were scuffed and crumpled and beginning to show holes. Besides, a surface this pleasant was to be appreciated. However, as he walked to the doorway, the floor grew unaccountably cooler under his feet. He paused, perplexed, and took a couple of experimental steps back towards the bed. Indeed, the floor was warmer near the centre of the room, a hot spot that again disappeared towards the opposite wall. Perhaps someone had lit the oven downstairs. No... that wouldn't do it. Frowning, Nephrite opened his door, and exited into the hall. Glancing to his right, he noticed the door to Kunzite and Zoisite's room shut and silent. Clearly, neither were up at all. Shrugging, Nephrite walked in the opposite direction to the stairway. There, nearly floored by the raging sunlight, he descended into the foyer. He couldn't smell cooking (and he doubted sincerely that Jadeite would be the one to start). Yet if his mind served him correctly, it was the kitchen that lay below his bedroom. If something was heating his floor, it would be coming from there, and without hesitating, Nephrite headed down the corridor towards it. It was in the hall just outside the room in question that Nephrite stopped suddenly. Before him Jadeite stood, half clothed and hair a mess. At his feet was Luna, and both were staring with frozen absorption into the kitchen. "Good morning," said Nephrite, "what's going on?" Only a quick glance was spared in his direction, the party clearly more fascinated with what lay just out of Nephrite's sight. Miffed, Nephrite walked up boldly to join Jadeite, taking due care not to step on the cat. But when he chanced a look into the kitchen, his jaw dropped. There was a hole in the kitchen ceiling. Not an ordinary hole, opening up a view into what would be Nephrite's bedroom, but another sort of hole. Huge and dark and stiflingly hot. Perhaps it was the heat radiating from it, but the very air about the hole seemed to waver. Though the ceiling around it remained unscathed, the stench of burnt wood was pungent. "What...?" Nephrite gaped. "Another one! It's another one!" cried Luna. "Another what?" * * * * Zoisite stiffened at the sound of shouting downstairs. He'd barely relaxed from the sudden movement of Kunzite's arm; his nerves were worn to the quick. The voices he heard were raised, alarmed. But, Zoisite thought as he cast his gaze back down to Kunzite's fallen form, there were more pressing matters to attend right here. * * * * Jadeite's legs felt as though they were made of jelly. Had he thought his bedsheets thrown out the window was strange, this spectacle was enough to make him sweat blood. Figuratively. Though with the intense heat sloughing off the hole, his bangs felt suddenly damp against his face. The apparition reminded him of a transport gate, the kind used by officers in the Dark Kingdom. Yet those never emitted so much energy.... "Two tears in such a short time space!" Luna exclaimed to herself. "This must mean that the energy used to keep this house tight is wearing thin!" "What are you talking about?" Jadeite snarled, irritated by the cat's nonsensical chatter. "I'm talking about the fabric of this place! If it can't remain constant, it must mean its power is being worn down, concentrated elsewhere!" "What power?" "That's not the question!" Luna crowed, entirely lost in her own thoughts. "The question we should be asking is, where is it being concentrated?" * * * * Zoisite gasped as Kunzite started to move, shoulders tensing and head slowly rising. The silver king exhaled roughly, and Zoisite knelt poised, prepared. As though the effort of rising was too great, Kunzite rolled over, flopping onto his back with another heavy sigh. His chest rose and fell with greater motion, and he breathed in deep, long breaths. Zoisite leaned over him, peering into his face. The silver king's eye lids were cracked open, his eyes glinting narrow and liquid behind the shroud of long eyelashes. His hair was in disarray, spread out on the floor in a silver halo. He squinted up at Zoisite, his face topsy-turvy, and parted his lips in what appeared to be a gentle smile. This in turn brought a grin to Zoisite's mouth, and the young king leaned closer to Kunzite's face. The curls of his bangs brushed against Kunzite's nose, and the latter reached up to place a hand on the back of Zoisite's head, bringing him closer still. When their lips met in this upside-down kiss, Zoisite sighed, relief encouraging his muscles to loosen. The kiss appeared to lend Kunzite strength, for the silver king rose abruptly to sit before Zoisite, their mouths still conjoined. His arms found their way about Zoisite's waist, and soon the two were in a tight embrace, previous tension forgotten. "Itai...." Zoisite murmured as Kunzite's fingers dug between his ribs. The pressure did not stop, and Zoisite found himself struggling to release himself from it. "Kunzite-sama, please let go-" Kunzite's eyes met his own, and immediately Zoisite knew something was very wrong. In the flash of light escaping from the curtain, a deep and foreign menace shone from those silver slits. Zoisite breath caught in his throat, and Kunzite bared his teeth. Before the knife could be grabbed, the silver king had knocked it away. It spun across the floor, its blade shining in circles as it traveled. Zoisite darted to his feet, backing away. Kunzite rose carefully, as though just getting accustomed to the feel of his body. He never took his eyes off of Zoisite. The young king tried to walk backwards in the direction of the knife, but he had not seen where it had gone, and it was impossible now to take his eyes away from Kunzite. The older king was advancing slowly, attempting in his walk to steer Zoisite away from the door, back into the room. Zoisite's knees trembled as he watched with horror the look of undeniable malevolence in the eyes of his Kunzite-sama. Suddenly, trembling with adrenaline, Zoisite turned and ran. The knife was forgotten, and he plunged with as much agility as he could muster towards the bedroom door. He skidded to a halt before it, hand dancing over the knob, distracted by the rush of Kunzite approaching. Just as he felt Kunzite's presence at his back, the door was open, and Zoisite fell forward into the hall, barely regaining his balance as he threw himself into a run. Kunzite followed close behind, the sound of his feet louder than Zoisite's own panicked breaths. Zoisite reached the stairwell, grasping the banister for support as he prepared to make a haphazard descent. For a moment, it looked as though he would make it, for he had his feet properly balanced on the first step down. But then Kunzite had him, dragging him back onto the upper landing. Zoisite struggled and shrieked, hoping Jadeite would hear him. He found himself backed against the wooden railing, leaning over the edge to escape Kunzite who loomed over him. "Why are you fighting me?" Kunzite said in a voice that was not his own. The gentleness of the statement gave Zoisite a glimmer of hope, and he paused in his struggles. Only to allow Kunzite's hand to close over his neck. Zoisite's frantic eyes widened even more, and he pushed away with all his strength. But Kunzite outweighed him by more than eighty pounds, and the wood of the railing began to groan in protest. In the moments that followed, Zoisite recalled turning his head away, and seeing Jadeite and Nephrite down in the entry, staring up at him. At that very moment, the banister gave with a mighty crack, and suddenly there was nothing there supporting him, nothing to stop his fall. HELLO NEIGHBOUR Chapter Twelve by Soylent Green Both Jadeite and Nephrite had heard the noise upstairs, Zoisite's unmistakable screams. They had acted in unison, both making a start towards the front entry, then stopping suddenly, afraid to leave the spectacle in the kitchen. They repeated this action a few more times, moving towards whatever attraction seemed to demand the most attention. Either there would be another noise upstairs, or the hole in the ceiling would belch and expand slightly. At last, Luna, exhausted by the two's indecisive dance, barked at them, "Go to the stairwell and see what's the problem! I'll watch things here!" Borne more of an overly-enticed curiosity than a true concern for Zoisite's well-being, the two kings dashed down the hallway, checking each other at the corners. They shot out of the narrow corridor like arrows from a bow, ejecting themselves into the sunlit foyer. Moving as one, they halted, their boots skidding on the floorboards, and they craned their necks upwards to peer at the second floor landing. This, truly, was a sight to behold. Both of them had rather suspected that Zoisite would be undergoing one of his 'episodes', to be found collapsed against the banister in the expected bloody stupor. Yet instead, the young king was standing, or rather, bent over backwards on the railing. Over him loomed Kunzite, who had pushed himself so closely against the smaller king that for an instant, Nephrite thought that perhaps the two were merely expanding their repertoire of public indecency. If that were the case however, their romantic experiments were about to come to an injurious end. For under the strain of their weight, the banister exploded. It did not simply crack or splinter or give way beneath them, but rather its supports and rail shattered and scattered, pelting the floor below with jagged pieces of wood. Jadeite and Nephrite watched as the two figures above, locked in their solid lover's embrace, tilted out into empty air. Jadeite rushed forward, as though he was diving to save a glass of water from spilling. But realizing his uselessness, he darted back to join Nephrite as a spectator. They fell so slowly. Kunzite's weight had twisted them in mid-air like a wheel, so that he was the one who would be first to hit the floor. Both Nephrite and Jadeite had their eyes squinted and their teeth gritted in preparation for the impending thud. And finally it came - not a thud - but a crash. For Kunzite- with the added weight of Zoisite - had gone right through the floor. For a moment, Jadeite and Nephrite could merely stand there, watching the pale cloud of dust rise from the new gap in the floorboards. Not a sound came from below, no voices, no movement. Slowly, cautiously, Jadeite crept forward. He kept his feet on the rug, maintaining a cautious couple of feet away from the hazy maw, lest he be the one to fall through next. Stiffly, stilted, he leaned over to peer into the hole. And, for want of anything better to say, "Hello?" There was no answer. The dust and jagged boards obscured the light; nothing could be seen below. Jadeite swallowed, turning to Nephrite. "Is... is there another way down there?" Nephrite passed a hand across his mouth, as though wiping away a nasty residual taste. "Not that I know of. I hadn't even realized that there was a level below this one." "I'm going to see if I can climb down there," said Jadeite with a sudden decisiveness. "No you're not." "Yes I am. Kunzite and Zoisite might be dead, for all you know. We should at least know." Crouching down on the floor, Jadeite began inching himself along, careful not to put his weight too heavily on any one board that looked too unstable. He had planned to ease himself over the lip of the hole, and jump down. After all, it couldn't be a very large drop, could it? "Careful," Nephrite called from behind him, "that might be a bottomless pit, for all you know." Jadeite ignored him, turning himself around clumsily on hands and knees, backing himself up to the very cusp. He raised one shaky boot, intending to dip it into the hole as slowly as one would dip a toe into a very hot tub of water. But as he commenced lowering that particular leg in, a flicker of movement caught his eye. It had come from the corridor leading to the kitchen, and had drifted out like a shadow, or a blackbird's wing. Jadeite paused in his climb to stare more intently, and soon Nephrite was following his gaze as well. "What did you see?" asked the auburn-haired king. * * * * The hole was spreading. It had engulfed all of the kitchen ceiling, and it poured like tar down the walls. The air was filled with smoke, for the sheer heat of the thing was causing the walls themselves to smolder. Luna stared at it, unable to move, unable to call for attention, her little cat jaw hanging open. Her ears were set back against the heat, and the smoke had packed itself so low that it was beginning to sting her eyes. But she refused to run away, her brain working rapidly at the puzzlement at hand. If the house's previous inhabitants had been pushed out of this plane into another, could that have somehow weakened the magic that kept this house solid? The hole that was spreading here- and Zoisite's brief disappearance- these were signs of damage to the house's very fabric, the magic membrane that Serenity had created to keep these beings contained. Suddenly, Luna began to comprehend. The attacks on Zoisite, and the peculiar aura surrounding Kunzite- these were not attempts to conquer the kings, but rather, they were attempts to find anchors, physical forms in the physical world. These souls, so suddenly disembodied and sent adrift, had seen upon the arrival of Kunzite and Zoisite two living beings, alive and close to one another. This was much for them to envy- a link to the happiness they had had before being imprisoned. Now that the house was falling apart, these beings had very little time to get what they want. Zoisite and Kunzite's only hope would be to reach the hole- the only way out - before they are overtaken. "What's happening?" The voice made Luna jump. She turned around to see Jadeite and Nephrite run up behind her. They stopped suddenly, the heat hitting them like a blow, and both of them simultaneously raised their arms as though to shield themselves. "What do we do now?!" cried Jadeite, for it seemed that in this heat, sound was dull. Luna opened her mouth to speak, but a sputtering noise from the kitchen drew her attention away. The kings heard it too, and as they watched, the hole crept down to spread along the floor, and burst into flames. * * * * Dust had fallen into Zoisite's eyes, stinging them. He tried to move his right arm to wipe his face clean, but it would not obey his command, answering only with a dull throb. His mind was hazy, and his stomach felt ill. He knew he had fallen, and that Kunzite must be nearby, perhaps in a similar state to his own. Yet right now, he felt distant from all that; the only sensation worth acknowledging was the pain in his arm. Zoisite could hear voices- Jadeite's, he thought- barely audible. But now his aching arm was announcing itself even more acutely, sending sharp points of pain through his shoulder. He groaned softly, cracking open his eyes. His vision was blurred, half of it clogged with dust, the other half smeared red. Blood, he supposed. Gathering his strength, he forced himself to sit up, raising his left hand to wipe his eyes clean. Gazing up, he could see the splintered gap in the floorboards. It was well out of his reach. He lowered his hands, jumping in his skin as it came down on something soft. And warm. Kunzite's hair. Zoisite looked down at the silver king, who lay flat on his back, unmoving. "Kunzite..." he said shakily. The voices upstairs were louder now, and through the hole in the floor, Zoisite could see the foyer's light hazed blue with smoke. Something was happening up there. Suddenly, Kunzite coughed and groaned. Zoisite skittered back, suddenly afraid again, eyes glittering in the dark. He watched from the shadows, the light form the hole just enough to highlight the outline of Kunzite's form as the silver king rose laboriously onto his hands and knees. His hair was matted and dull, but his eyes shone like cracked mirrors. Zoisite, quivering, realized he was trapped. This secret level was too dark to move about, and the only lit area was occupied by Kunzite, who, when he turned his head, fixed his eyes in Zoisite's direction. "Zoi-chan...." Zoisite flinched as Kunzite started to crawl towards him, on his hands and knees. Blood stained the cuffs of Kunzite's left trouser leg; he must have injured himself in the fall. I could run, Zoisite thought. He can't see me in the dark.. After all, Zoisite did have full use of his legs; only his arm seemed damaged. Kunzite had left the spotlight, crawling towards Zoisite in the shadows. The darkness made him invisible; Zoisite could only hear the scrape of his knees on the floor. The young king backed up farther, not wanting to betray his location. "Zoisite, my love, don't hide." The voice was alarmingly close, and Zoisite forced himself to leap back another few steps, deeper into the shadows. Yet Kunzite advanced slowly, no doubt aware of Zoisite's proximity. Zoisite backed up a little more, until his back touched solid stone. The wall. It was over. "Zoisite, here you are," came Kunzite's voice, right at Zoisite's feet. The young king felt a hand close around his right arm. The pain spread all the way down his sides, and he struggled to pull away. His arm would not move, though, and Kunzite was able to keep it easily in his grasp. "Now see what you've done," Kunzite said. "You've got us all bashed up. It would have been much easier if you had not fussed around so much." His other hand seized Zoisite's left arm, and Zoisite could feel the silver king hauling himself to his feet. "There," he said. "I can't see you very well, Zoisite, but since I've got ahold of you, that is good enough." Zoisite strained to look past Kunzite, whose shadow was blocking his view of the main floor. He caught a glimpse of it, through the hole in the floor, the light growing even darker with smoke. What was happening up there? His thoughts were cut short when Kunzite's grip tightened. A shock passed through Zoisite's body, followed by a wave of intense fatigue. He felt his knees weakening beneath him, his eyelids drooping. "Just go to sleep," he heard Kunzite say. "That's all you need to do." * * * * Jadeite, Nephrite, and Luna ran single-file into the parlor, plunging through the smoke as though it was water. The flames had eaten their way to the hallway, and behind them spread the hole like a great black stain. "Where are Kunzite and Zoisite?" Luna asked urgently. "They're in the foyer... in principle." Jadeite nodded across the hall to the broken floorboards. "We... we must get them out of there!" Luna cried, leaping forward. "Before the fire spreads!" "Why do you care?" Nephrite said as they ran over, ducking beneath a particularly thick cloud of smoke. "We're the enemy, remember?" "What you do in service to your queen in beyond my control," Luna said as she ran. "But I know the way out. And not to tell them would be equally villainous." "Wait!" Nephrite blocked her way. "What do you mean, 'the way out?'" "Let me go! There's no time for this!" "Nephrite, let her go-" Jadeite began. Suddenly, a deep rumble sounded from the hallway. It escalated to a piercing hiss, and in a burst of flame and ash, the black hole spilled forth into the foyer. The party had just enough time to leap clear before tongues of fire licked along the walls and floor. Nephrite and Jadeite retreated back, their faces and uniforms tarnished. The way back into the foyer was now blocked by the flames. "Where's Luna?!" Jadeite shouted, only to leap back further as the flames rose up along the doorframe and began to alight upon the window curtains. "There's no time for her!" yelled Nephrite. "Back this way!" He indicated to a safe passageway to the one of the smaller corridors. The fire belched and rose. Instantly, Jadeite was on his feet and running, joining Nephrite in a sprint down the hall. Perhaps, they'd come across another window, one they could break and jump through. As they ran, the smoke grew a little thinner. However, the heat rose, searing the kings nearly as viciously as would fire. Suddenly, Nephrite halted, putting out his arm to stop Jadeite as well. Jadeite looked about impatiently; it was so dark in this hall he could barely see in front of him. Why did Nephrite stop? "Don't take another step," he heard Nephrite mutter suddenly. Instantly, Jadeite's eyes dropped to his feet. After staring for a few moments, his jaw opened and he let forth a quavering gasp. He stood, indeed, upon solid wooden flooring, but as his boots ended in points, the floor ended in blackness. "This is all-" "The hole," came a tiny voice from behind. "Luna!" gasped Jadeite, watching the little cat as she joined them. For a moment, they all stood, smoke filling the hall behind them, the wavering heat of the black hole before them. They could hear the fire, burning away. It seemed distant, somehow. Then Luna stepped forwards, casting a glance back at the kings. They watched her, puzzled. She smiled up at them. "I hope I shall never see you again," she said. Tensing her hindquarters, she made a great leap, and before anyone could catch her, the hole swallowed her head to tail. Jadeite and Nephrite stood, hands at their sides, watched wide-eyed the spot where Luna had disappeared. "She's gone...." Jadeite whispered. Nephrite opened his mouth to reply, when suddenly from behind there came a great rush of air. They wheeled around, everything in their vision turning orange as the fire entered from the far end of the hallway. It crept slowly, deliberately, as though to prove that it was blocking the exit. With it came more smoke, adding an acrid tang to the already stifling air. "Wait," said Jadeite suddenly. "Luna said she knew the way out. Do you suppose this is it?" He pointed at the hole. "After all, why else would she jump into it?" Nephrite cast a hasty glance in both directions, sweat matting his hair to face and turning his expression wild. Finally, panting, he whispered, "I'll jump if you do." The fire had risen up and was moving along the ceiling, faster than before. Jadeite watched it climb and spread towards them. Blood was rushing through his head, his pupils wide enough to be painful. At last, after a few shaking breaths, he steeled his nerve and grabbed Nephrite by the collar. They teetered for a moment or two, then fell forward, letting themselves be engulfed by the blackness. * * * * Zoisite couldn't move. Kunzite and sunk with him to the floor, and now he sat trapped between the wall and Kunzite's own warm body. The other had not released his hold, and Zoisite wept in fear. Parts of the floor above him were caving in, and through the gaps in it, he could see nothing but smoke and fire. The stairwell had fallen piece by piece, sending burning planks of wood to shower around the two kings. In the midst of all this, Zoisite battled the fatigue that seemed to be borne of Kunzite's touch. His eyes would close, sound would become distant. The he would force them open again and renew his struggling. He knew that if he could stay awake, something would avail him. Anything. All the while, Kunzite spoke to him. "We're safe down here, my love. Nothing will hurt you. We shall be all right." His voice was shaking, though, as were his hands. Zoisite forced his eyes open long enough for something else to catch his attention. A black substance, thick as syrup, was pouring through the gap in the boards above them. It did not reflect the light of the fire, as most liquids would, but rather absorbed light, turning it into shadows. It spilled onto the lower floor, not far from where Kunzite and Zoisite were huddled, and spread faster than mercury. Kunzite turned his head and saw it too. His eyes suddenly widened in fear, and he let loose a cry so unlike him it chilled Zoisite to hear it. The silver king began to struggle, apparently trying to lift Zoisite up and move them to a place away from the spreading black pool. But with his injured leg, he could not set himself upright. His breathing came heavy and fast in Zoisite's ear, and he spoke urgently. "We must get away from it. We must!" Whether it was by dazed deliberation, or pure exhaustion, Zoisite did not know. But something made him stay put, refusing to budge from his place on the floor, no matter how much Kunzite pulled at him. The air was growing hot and humid, and Kunzite snarled into Zoisite's neck, hissing threats and curses at him. Finally, the silver king released Zoisite, moving to retreat on his own. Seized by sudden urgency, Zoisite reached out and grabbed Kunzite, adding his own weight to the burden of the wound in Kunzite's leg. "Let go of me, you little wench!" Kunzite spat. Then, glancing at the rapidly approaching shadow-pool, "Let go! Let go! Let go!" But Zoisite would not let go. The place was collapsing around him, huge planks of the house's burning skeleton plunging downwards. Yet, everything that hit the black pool did not splash, or splutter, but instead disappeared into its darkness. And when the pool moved forward again, it took Zoisite and Kunzite as well. * * * * Though he could not open his eyes, Zoisite knew where he was. The soft bedsheets were unmistakable in the way they cradled and soothed him. But better yet was the form who lay with him, likewise as still as he, his dear Kunzite-sama. Zoisite sighed to himself. Brief images, of smoke and fire and falling, flashed and roiled in his head like a nightmare. But the more he thought on them, the more faded they became, until finally, he couldn't see them anymore. Just a dream. Together, the two shared their frozen bed, and all around them the Dark Kingdom lay in hibernation. In this place of evil, all was familiar, all was good. Motionless, the Kingdom and its legion - now complete - slept on, and beyond its enchanted walls, the electric lights of Tokyo buzzed and glowed. -THE END-