Zoicite awoke in the morning and found himself alone in his and Kunzite’s shared lodgings. At first he feared that he had finally disappointed Kunzite to the point that he had given up on him when he started to hear voices coming from the front of the house. He quietly approached the door and could hear the sounds of men’s voices traveling through the wooden frame, but seemed to be unable to make out their words through the barrier. Their voices were hushed almost as if they were expecting him, which Zoicite quickly surmised they must have been. But who would be here? Kunzite had been insistent on no one disturbing them and for the past 6 months that they had been there not a single person had dared to not comply. Zoicite took a deep breath and squared his shoulders as he had often seen Kunzite do. With his head held high he opened the door to find three men standing in front of him, all dressed in the uniform of the Shitennou. It took all his will power to keep his jaw from falling open at the sight of them. The man with the dark hair appeared to be several years older than him though still younger than Kunzite, while the blonde couldn’t have been more than a couple years older despite the age that showed in his eyes. Was this what people meant when they talked about people having old souls? Could that be the name for the haunting look in the young man’s eyes? He never had the chance to surmise an answer as Kunzite was quick to end their conversation. With a knowing glance he looked to the other two men and then left, mounting his horse and riding away without a word. Despite what he had endured for the past 6 months under Kunzite’s watchful eye, he felt saddened as though he were suddenly being abandoned by the one person that he had come to idolize.
“So you’re him?” the tall man with chestnut hair asked with his arms crossed tightly in front of his chest.
“Him?” Zoicite answered weakly, trying to commit the details of this man to memory.
“The fourth Shitennou,” the blonde cut in.
“Yes, I am. My name is Zoicite.”
“I am Nephrite,” the first man identified himself. He looked over to the blonde who was too busy inspecting the new comer to bother introducing himself. “And this is Jadeite.”
“Where did Kunzite go?” Zoicite asked.
“He left you to us.”
“Will he be returning?”
“Not by choice I’m sure,” Jadeite drawled, now looking around bored.
“That was maybe a little harsh don’t you think?” Nephrite asked.
“I’m certainly not here by choice,” he looked over Zoicite’s smaller frame before turning back to Nephrite. “So which one of us will go first?” Both men stared at each other for a moment before each extending a fist. They made some gesture to each other, and Jadeite smiled as he walked away apparently victorious. Nephrite turned to Zoicite with his frown back in place. “Then it’s you against me. Let’s go.”
For the remainder of the afternoon Zoicite sparred off against Nephrite, who like him, disliked fighting with a sword. Zoicite was relieved to finally learn something new as Nephrite taught him to battle in hand to hand combat - that was until he found himself on the receiving end one too many blows. Nephrite did not hold back initially as Kunzite did, he instead fought hard and expected Zoicite to learn how to better protect himself with each mistake. By midday he was growing frustrated by Nephrite’s tactics and the taste of blood that lingered in his mouth. It was almost as if he were having fun at Zoicite’s expense. An interesting group these people were turning out to be. Finally, they were done and stopped for lunch. Jadeite was nowhere to be found but Nephrite insisted that they not wait for him. Their conversation quickly turned from mundane chatter to more divine matters. Zoicite was intrigued how this man quickly turned from arrogant indifference to someone of such consequence. Maybe beyond Jadeite’s ultimate dislike for him stood a man full of compassion. He stared to feel optimistic about the remainder of the day until it was time for him to train against Jadeite – then he realized there was very little beyond his upfront hatred.
Jadeite, much like Kunzite, preferred to fight with his sword. Although Zoicite was to later learn that his strength on the battlefield was with his ability to wield two swords at once. Surprisingly Zoicite realized that he was able to hold his own against Jadeite’s constant assault. After practicing against a left-handed fighter he found that a right-handed partner posed less of a challenge, although Jadeite was still a force to be reckoned with. His style of fighting verses Kunzite’s was so different and it energized Zoicite sparring with him.
“Why do you hold back?” Zoicite asked, sincere in his question.
“Because you’re not really ready to fight me,” Jadeite replied, never breaking in his motions.
“Nephrite didn’t hold back. I think I have the bruises to prove it.”
“That’s his style, not mine. When you’re a worthy of a good fight I will give you one. It was not in Kunzite’s orders to kill you today.”
“Do you really hate me?”
“We are going to be brothers in arms, that is all that matters.”
“Is this how it is meant to be between the four of us?”
Jadeite laughed at his comment. “Says the teachers pet.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Zoicite could feel his cheeks flush with anger.
“Defeat me and I’ll talk.” Jadeite picked up the intensity of his attack trying to hold Zoicite off balance. Zoicite readjusted his footing trying to brace himself against the strengthened attacks while preparing a defense of his own. Different possibilities passed through his mind of tactics taught to him by Kunzite, yet he couldn’t decide on the one that would best help him. Instead he continued to hold his defensive stance watching Jadeite’s series of movements, looking for the opening that he needed. “I thought you said that you were going to be a challenge? It looks like they may have found the wrong person for the job. You are a defenseless child hardly worth the recognition of being trained to be a Shitennou,” Jadeite taunted him.
“You look to be hardly older than me!” Zoicite responded.
“Looks can be deceiving.”
Zoicite decided that he would need to make his move, win or lose he couldn’t stand there and stay on the defense for much longer. Not against someone at an obviously higher skill level than him. He shifted his sword to his left hand, which was significantly weaker, but it allowed him to free up his right hand. With barely a noticeable twitch, he shook one of the blades tucked in his sleeve lose so that he could prepare to use it.
This motion, despite how slight, did not go unnoticed by Jadeite. He copied Zoicite’s action, switching his blade to his left hand to counter the series of movements. Zoicite quickly learned that Jadeite’s left was almost as good as Kunzite’s. As he prepared to move forward with his right arm, Jadeite quickly switched his sword back to his right, and with his left unsheathed the sword hanging on his right side. The movement was so quick that Zoicite barely had time to react before the edge of the new blade came down towards his right arm. The edge sliced through the sleeve of his uniform and drew a thin straight line of blood. Jadeite finished his attack by bringing his other blade to rest at Zoicite’s neck while Zoicite held the small blade from his sleeve, aimed at Jadeite’s heart. Both stood staring at each other, not willing to move or admit defeat. Finally Jadeite broke the silence. “Does Kunzite allow you to fight in this style?”
“Not really,” Zoicite answered.
Jadeite grinned. “Good, now you’re learning.”
“Learning? To disobey Kunzite?”
“Nephrite and I try not to make his job any easier than need be.” He sheathed the sword in his left hand and started walking across the field, back towards the house looming in the distance.
Zoicite slowly followed after him, watching as he sheathed his other sword before he did the same. “Does Kunzite believe I’m a total failure?”
“Did he use those words?”
“Not that I recall….” Zoicite answered.
“You have to understand that Kunzite is different from the rest of us and always will be. He doesn’t always say what he wants to, it’s like there is some sort of language barrier between him and the rest of the world. Save for Prince Endymion who understands him quite fluently.”
“What is the Prince like? Kunzite doesn’t speak much of him, but when he does it’s with much reverence.”
“He is a good man and a good friend.”
“I will do my best to protect him.”
“We all do.” Jadeite stopped walking and turned to face him. “I wasn’t much older than you when I started my training, but my previous experiences made it easier for me to adapt. This won’t be easy and no one will be here to help you either. The best advice any of us can give you is to learn who you are and use your strengths to your advantage. Kunzite will teach you more than anyone else would ever be able to.”
“May I ask you something?” he asked, chewing on his lower lip. Jadeite looked to him, waiting for him to continue. “Kunzite said that once you tried to draw your sword on him. What happened?”
Jadeite frowned and watched as the expressions on Zoicite’s face changed from curiosity to being almost apologetic. “I did, once, and that was enough.”
“What did he do to you?”
“He cut off my toes and keeps them in a jar.” And like that, Jadeite turned and walked away from Zoicite leaving him to contemplate his words.
Suddenly Zoicite had a new fear instilled in him of this man who would be charged with his training. Is that the price he would pay for his mistakes? He watched Jadeite walking away and noticed the obvious bounce in his step and realized that he had been had.
