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Airmail by LovelyLytton

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“Let me close this lecture on objectivism with the words of Ayn Rand: Evil is impotent and has no power but that which we let it extort from us.” The sound of rustling paper and happy voices immediately arose like a storm in the crowded lecture hall. Students were hurrying to get to lunch meetings with friends, to the library to study some more for looming exams or to rarely held office hours of elusive professors. One young man moved considerably slower than the rest, he had not even packed up his notepad and his pencil when the others were already filing out of the doors. Umino Kiichi remained rooted to the spot, until people for the next class entered the room and he finally made his exit, moving like a ghost through the busy halls of Tokyo University.



*



The youngest shitennou lay broken at his feet. It was a small grace that he had not lived to see how the smart girl bleed to death. Not even pausing to clean his blade of the dripping blood, Kunzite marched on, murder in his eyes.



*



Hours later, Umino and Ando sat on the maroon couch in their messy living-room, eating yesterday's leftovers straight out of its boxes while watching a football game. Several empty beer bottles adorned the coffee table in front of them.

“Do you think that people are responsible for their actions under any given circumstances or do you think that things like desperation minimise the level of accountability one holds?”, the younger one asked while rifling through the box in search of some more fried chicken.

Reluctantly, Ando tore his eyes from the flimmering screen. God, how he missed American sports! Pondering the question briefly, he cautiously answered after having taken a large gulp from the bottle that was resting next to his right foot.

“If this is about me wearing your shirt because I don't have any clean ones, then I am absolutely not responsible. I blame my mother. If she had taught me how to use a washing machine, I wouldn't have had to nick it from you.”



Knowing that he wouldn't get more out of his flatmate, the philosopher dropped the subject and got up to do some laundry.



*



Indifferent, he moved past the large ball of fire that nearly singed Jadeite's curls. Already, Kunzite knew that the Princess of Mars would take his friend down with her. It was in her nature to be unforgiving. He briefly contemplated coming to the fighting man's help, and while thinking, killed a screaming moon soldier without so much as a glance. No, this was not his fight, Jadeite had to it alone. There is very little of surprise in a fight between two psychics, and when none of them is willing to give up, both will die. So unless his silken tongue would cause the senshi to stumble, Jadeite was doomed. Simple as that. Kunzite moved on, leaving a trail of vibrant red behind as he killed without caring.



*



One half of a very large man was hidden under the sparkling sink, and countless tools were strewn across the kitchen floor. Hiromasa's somewhat muted voice was accompanied by the sound of bending metal.

“Do I want to know why you are asking this?”

Umino sighed, playing with the screwdriver he had been ordered to hold.

“It came up in a lecture about objectivism, which is a philosophical approach made popular by-”

“Cut the details, you know they would be wasted on me.” Hiro had emerged from under the sink, grease smudging his cheek and some sort of goo sticking in his curly brown hair.

Taking the screwdriver from Umino's very clean hands, he dove in again, resolved to have this kitchen up and running by the time Makoto got home.

“But basically, yeah. I think that there are some factors that make you less liable for your actions, but I am not sure that there are some that you make you less guilty. Very different things, guilt and liability.”

A sudden jet of water brought an abrupt end to their conversation.



“Damn it!”, shouted Hiromasa and Umino quickly sprang to his feet to avoid being hit by the cold mess as well.



*



Jupiter and Venus were fighting an irate Nephrite, whose movements were slowing down with each passing attack. The senshi were out to kill, and while it was Jupiter whose assaults were more vicious, it was Venus that delivered the final blow. He had taught her well.

A large explosion in the distance led him to assume that Mars and Jadeite were no more.

Hating for his shitennou to be a failure, he picked up a stray spear from a fallen soldier's still warm hand and hurled it right through Jupiter's heart. She never saw it coming through the foolish tears she wept over his fallen comrade.




*



Taking advantage of the fact that it was for once not raining or snowing, and that it was a Sunday to boot, Umino had asked Takeshi to join him for a walk. The older man had agreed, and so they had set out to explore some of the parks that lay on the outskirts of the city. It was just them, for Hiromasa was still busy fixing the kitchen that didn't want to be fixed and in what could only be described as a fit of lunacy, Ando had set out to visit Rei at her shrine. Umino seriously doubted that he would still have a flatmate come evening.



Takeshi broke the silence between them.

“So how are taking to living in Tokyo?”

Pushing his hands deeper in his pockets, Umino looked at the man on his right thoughtfully.

“I like it. The city is so full of culture, and living with Ando is quite nice, but don't tell him that, he is cocky enough as it is.”

Some colour crept into his cheeks, but it might just have been from the icy wind that seemed intend on compensating the absence of its siblings, sister rain and brother snow. Takeshi refrained from asking about how the youngest shitennou and the clever med student were getting along, assuming that Umino would raise the topic if he wished to discuss it.

“But I do miss my family. They are not exactly happy with me right now, but there is nothing I can do to change that short of returning to Kyoto and finishing my Ph.D. there.”

Not having a family himself, Takeshi found himself at a loss.

“Well, I am sure that as long as you tell them about the progress you're making at Tokyo University, they will come around.”



Acknowledging the encouragement with a shrug, Umino watched a pair of sparrows up in the spindly branches of an old ginkgo tree. Time had passed so quickly ever since he came here. February was hurriedly marching to its end, and all things considered, he should be happy about having found his place in the world again.



The words burst out of mouth.

“Do you think that we are fully to blame for what we've done? In the Silver Millennium, and here? How much was Metallia, and how much were we?”

His voice had an almost pleading tone to it, for the subject had weighed heavy on the thinker's heart and no amount of practice in taking theoretical concepts apart and putting them back together after analysing them thoroughly had been of any help. He was at a loss and he didn't dare to ask the soft spoken girl for help that he had come to rely on when he searched for something to stop his restless mind from spinning and turning.



Almost an hour later, Takeshi answered. It was always like this, nothing could rush him into words or actions that he hadn't though through. Once, Umino had wondered whether his friend might not make a better philosopher than he himself, who had been trained in it.



“I blame myself for everything, because I was always supposed to be Endymion's last line of defence. Instead, I all but shoved the sword through his heart.” The green eyes were cast to the ground, in what could only be described as deep shame and gnawing regret.



“You, however, are nothing like me. You couldn't kill her, you rather died yourself.”

A sad pride swung in the deep voice, soothing Umino, but leaving him wondering how his leader managed to walk so upright while such heavy feelings of guilt were clinging to his broad shoulders.



*



Across the battlefield, Venus and Kunzite faced each other, both holding deadly blades in their capable hands. The air was crackling with anticipation and just as he was about to launch his attack, did he hear Beryl's calling.

Both leaders sprinted in the same direction, their movements oddly in sync despite their contrary positions in this war. Beryl was threatening that silly moon princess, but Endymion launched himself in front of her. Time sped up, as the sobbing girl gripped the blade and put it through her own heart. Kunzite smirked. Victory was close. Turning to finish Venus, he found her storming towards Beryl, aiming for a kill.

He sent a burst of malevolent energy after her, but knew that it was too late. Beryl would fall. But so would the blonde soldier.



When the arrow made of fire, revenge, rage and a dying woman's last breath hit him, he knew he should have destroyed Mars himself.


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