The Exiles By: Starsea Rating: R Chapter Four: Reunion They open and close you, Then they talk like they know you, They don’t know you, They’re friends and they’re foes, too... - Joni Mitchell, “Trouble Child” She lay there, waiting for something. She lay there, staring up at the shimmering veils above her, surrounded by sheets of gold. She’d been here before, and she was waiting for someone. There was music somewhere, swooning harps and the faint sweet sound of someone singing. Her fingers curled and straightened, flexing, the only outward sign of her tension. Her vision was blurred, so she saw his shadow appearing over her, his body coming down to rest upon hers. It was a pleasant weight, and familiar. She knew just how to bear it. I thought you wouldn’t come. Try and keep me away. She arched her neck, meeting his lips and feeling palms gently slide over her breasts. Gentle fingers pulled the satin down, slipping inside to probe and tease her skin. Her vision grew even hazier, she could hear herself gasping, feel that strange sweet tension in the pit of her belly. Her hands were slipping over muscles, mapping out the flat planes of chest and stomach, exploring the shifting islands of his shoulder blades, the smooth expanse of his back. His hips were narrow, bony, she grabbed them, to steady herself, let him know what she wanted. Please... Are you sure? He always asked that question, he probably always would. First she had been touched, then puzzled, then irritated, but she always gave the same answer, one long kiss upon those long, clever lips, no words needed. The familiar pounding of her heart as his fingers brushed against the hem of the negligee, sliding up her thighs, curling around her own hips. She spread her legs, unable to be patient, gazing up into the sea-green eyes, at once grave and loving, sad and tender. They both knew this was all they could ever have, and they took it. She wondered vaguely what would happen at the end, but pushed the thought away. This was enough, for now. He was enough. He was more than enough. She lifted her hips, felt the thrust – And cried out in longing as her eyes opened and she found herself alone, in a darkened room, in another time. /Where am I? Where am I? Where did you go?!/ She sat up and saw the familiar white blur at the end of the bed, the one familiar thing in this alien place where the light that came through her window was orange. “Artemis! Artemis!” Her voice was on the verge of breaking. Artemis lifted his head and blinked, jumping awake as cats do, uncurling. “Minako! Calm yourself. You’re safe. You’re home.” Pale hands reached out and pulled him forward, cuddling him like a soft toy, for comfort and the reassurance of a living thing. He licked the tips of her fingers, feeling her distress beat in the rapid pulse of her blood and the sweat on her skin. “I dreamed... I dreamed...” “It was only a dream,” he soothed, rubbing his head against her hand. “It wasn’t real. You are safe. Safe.” “But it was him!” she burst out. “The man... the one who resisted... I know it was him!” “What man?” Artemis raised himself on his front paws, gazing up into her face. “Who are you talking about?” “The one who wouldn’t... let me seduce him,” Minako said slowly, her hands stilling in the white fur. “The strong one. He had green eyes. Misty green.” She looked down. “Who was he, Artemis?” “Just a soldier,” Artemis said, breaking out of her arms now that she’d calmed down. “A soldier,” Minako repeated flatly, watching him. “He couldn’t have been just *any* soldier. He resisted me!” She didn’t mention that in the dream there had been no talk of resisting, only giving and taking, and a desire for more. Artemis turned around and then sank down with a grunt. “Minako, it’s late. Since it wasn’t a nightmare, you shouldn’t have difficulty getting back to sleep. Why does it matter who he was?” “Because he was different!” Minako hissed, thumping the bed with one fist. “He wasn’t like the others, he meant something!” Artemis looked at her, his eyes eerie in the lamplight. “That was then. This is now. It’s over. Go to sleep.” He put his head down and closed his eyes. Minako glared at him and lay back down, her eyes hot with tears. She wanted him. She didn’t even know his name and she wanted him. Why had it ended there, *why*?! She buried her face in the pillow and gritted her teeth. Salt water dampened her cheeks and seeped into her mouth. It took a long time for her to fall asleep again. *** “You know why I’ve come.” The words surprised Mamoru. He hadn’t meant to be so blunt. He’d wanted to be tactful, and lead up to his real reason for this unexpected visit. His mouth had other ideas and Elios did not seem surprised, or even offended. His amber eyes were as steady and clear as ever. “You want to know about those men,” he replied, clasping his hands in front of him. “They’ve got my guardians, haven’t they?” Mamoru said, thinking that as he’d started out blunt, he might as well carry on that way. “Shall we walk down to the lake?” said Elios, gesturing. “It’s a nice evening, and the air is fresher by the water.” Mamoru nodded, knowing that Elios was not refusing to tell him, merely choosing his words. He knew Elios, and Elios knew him. It was comforting in a world that still seemed so random, even chaotic; right now Mamoru needed all the comfort he could get. They walked down the slope towards the expanse of water which held the moon for all to see, a pearl in shades of lilac and blue. The white curving silhouettes of swans went to and fro, always in pairs, their necks bent in a gesture that was both proud and shy at the same time. Rushes bordered the lake, along with small golden water lilies that seemed to hold their own special glow of sunshine, spreading a delicate and haunting perfume. Every now and then, the water rippled as a fish came up to take a bite of the insects that danced over the surface. Mamoru took a deep breath and felt the peace of it all flow inside him like a cooling drink, soothing his soul. “Do you think they are your enemies?” Elios enquired, gazing out over the water. The question shocked Mamoru for a moment, but then he considered how he’d acted in the dream. “No,” he said honestly. “I know they’re not my enemies. Certainly Ken-kun isn’t. And the other three... I shouldn’t have acted like that. I was just so shocked to see that you knew them. And Kitano-san... he was so patronising.” “Patronising?” Elios repeated. “You thought so?” “He acted like I couldn’t see what was right in front of my nose!” Mamoru said, his lips tightening. Elios paused. “Sometimes, you can’t,” he pointed out, picking a strand of seed grass and pushing all the seeds off so they floated away on the air. “He was a little frustrated that you’d managed to break through the protective shield, yet you couldn’t see what was going on.” “How long have you known them?” Mamoru asked, cold with anger at the implication that he could be so oblivious, hot with shame because he knew it was true. “I’ve known all of them for different lengths of time; I’ve known Takehiko-san the longest of them all, then Isamu-san, then Xavier- san, then Ken-san.” Elios ticked them off on his fingers with a small smile. “You get on well with Kitano-san, don’t you?” Mamoru said, noticing the smile. He felt the strangest twinge of envy, and ignored it. “He understands,” Elios said, looking at him, as if those words described everything that was appealing about Kitano Takehiko. Mamoru stared back. He wondered if they were talking about the same man. Takehiko had not struck him as ‘understanding’ at all. Ken was understanding. Xavier looked as if he could be sympathetic. Mamoru could not imagine confessing anything under the gaze of those green- grey eyes which made you feel as if they already knew anything that was worth knowing. “Understands what?” he pressed. “Understands what it’s like to hold back when every fibre in you cries out to let go,” Elios said quietly, and Mamoru felt the breath go out of him. “Not many people understand what that’s like,” Elios went on, as if Mamoru didn’t know this. “It’s not the only thing he understands, but it’s the most important thing. He knows how to hold on.” There was silence on the shore of the lake. Mamoru felt a twinge again, and it was stronger. His ribs were aching, and there were lines running through his head: /You were once my one companion, you were all that mattered/ You were once a friend and guardian, then my world was shattered.../ They weren’t by Eliot. They were from some musical or other. He couldn’t remember the rest of the song, just those two lines, which went round and round in his head in the same high, plaintive voice, and they were all mixed up with the memory of Takehiko’s green-grey eyes, the memory of his voice saying intently, “You know the answer. It’s inside your head – just like all the previous ones.” Elios’s voice gradually broke through. “Prince, there is no way they can have the stones. The stones were destroyed. You know that.” “But Isamu-san had a stone,” Mamoru protested, without much effort. “He called it jadeite...” The word made him stop. He said it to himself in his mind, thinking of the jolt of energy that had passed through him, and Isamu’s watchful blue eyes. He looked at Elios. “Elios...?” “These are only hints and guesses,” Elios said quietly, “and the rest is prayer, observance, discipline, thought and action.” Mamoru knew those words, he remembered reading them. “You do the praying, I suppose?” he said, raising an eyebrow. There was a brief pause, and they could hear the plop and bubble of the fish coming up to feed. “Not all of it,” Elios said, looking at him. “You have to pray... or to wish, if you prefer that verb, for enlightenment as to their whereabouts. As for the observance, discipline, thought and action, I believe you already know about that. Only from observing and thinking things through can you hope to take the right action.” His lips twitched in what might have been a smile. “What have you learnt from your observations, Prince?” “Isamu-san knows about dreams... he knows about the stones. So... maybe he knows how to go into other people’s dreams, communicate with them.” Mamoru touched the jade on his necklace. “Maybe I should try contacting him before I go to sleep tonight. But I don’t know how.” “Well, if that stone is a link to him, you should focus your energy on that, and then wait to see what happens next,” Elios said, watching his prince and praying that he’d take the hint.Two swans began to beat their wings, running through the water, pushing themselves up into the air. Mamoru watched their silhouettes against the sky and sighed. “It sounds too simple.” “Sometimes things are simple,” Elios pointed out, turning around and walking back towards the shrine. “You’re making this too complicated... looking for motives that aren’t there. Over thinking. It’s not necessary.” “Do you really think that’s all it will take?” Mamoru asked, following him. “I tried to ask them questions this afternoon... they didn’t tell me anything. They just teased me... made it seem like I was asking about nothing.” “Perhaps because you were?” Elios’s tone was light, but Mamoru knew that he meant what he said. “Why should they bother to answer your questions when you already know the answers?” Mamoru was silent, thinking. Neither of them spoke again until they reached the shrine, where the Maenads were waiting. Elios bowed to Mamoru. “I hope I have helped you, Prince. I will continue to pray for you, the Princess and the senshi.” Mamoru nodded. “Thank you...” There was a shimmer of golden light and then he was gone. Darkness had fallen while he was in Elysion. Time was strange there, sometimes running slowly, sometimes pouring through the hourglass. The neon lights of Tokyo were already shining through his windows. Mamoru checked his mobile, but there were no messages, as if he was completely cut off from the world. He didn’t mind. That suited his mood at the moment. He wanted to do this on his own. He drank some green tea and tidied up, then went to bed. His heart was beating strangely fast; the jadeite and nephrite felt warm to his touch. He rubbed them, knowing he was on the brink of something, it was staring him in the face. But it couldn’t be that simple, surely? *** Late as it was, Xavier and Isamu had not gone to bed. They were both night owls, so it was not unusual for them to stay up until two or three in the morning, especially if they were composing. They had their own special room for this, soundproofed and situated at the back of the house; it opened onto the garden so that guests could be serenaded if the occasion called for it. There was a piano, a cupboard full of music stands and paper, a stereo, and even an old- fashioned record player completed with vinyl records. Billie Holiday was pledging to love her man like nobody had loved him, come rain or come shine, and Xavier was softly accompanying her on the piano. Isamu was leaning against him, bent over some music paper. His pen flew over the staves, leaving a path of dots and streaks in its wake. Xavier played the final chord and rested his fingers on the keys for a moment as the record crackled and spun to an end. He stared at the empty music stand and then looked over his shoulder at his cousin. He knew how it felt to be interrupted when the inspiration was flowing, but this was important. He cleared his throat. “Isa... I need to talk to you.” “What about?” Isamu asked, still writing. Xavier played an arpeggio in the bass clef. “Hi-kun. I’m worried about him.” Isamu stopped writing, and looked at him. “Xavier, you worry about everyone.” Which meant ‘You’re going to have to work harder than that.’ “No, I mean it. He said something today while I was finishing my coursework. And it wasn’t good.” He didn’t know how else to put it. If he was any more descriptive, Isamu would say he was being melodramatic, but he couldn’t understate it either. Isamu resisted the urge to sigh: he’d never find out what was wrong if Xavier’s self esteem issues decided to play up. He was much better now of course, but you never knew. “How do you mean, ‘it wasn’t good’? What did he say?” “We were talking about Mamoru-san’s dream. And he said he noticed how Mamoru-san missed Kunzite more than the others. I told him that was probably because Mamoru-san assumed he was back for a moment. Then Hi-kun said he’d almost told Mamoru-san that Kunzite didn’t exist anymore.” Isamu didn’t look startled, that wasn’t his style, but the blue in his eyes darkened from azure to sapphire and he fully turned so that he could see Xavier’s face better. “He said that?” Xavier pressed down a sharp gently. “Mm. But he didn’t explain it to me. He wouldn’t discuss it with me at all. He put up his wall... *you* know.” Isamu nodded. He knew. “He’s been acting weird ever since we met Mamoru-san,” he said, frowning slightly. “I thought he would be happy, and he wasn’t, not like the rest of us were. He *says* he doesn’t sense anything wrong, but he sits around brooding like there is...” “It’s like when he came back from Norway,” Xavier said suddenly, looking at him. “He went away bright and full of life, and when he came back...” “It was like he wasn’t even there,” Isamu finished, glaring into space. They were silent for a few moments; then Isamu threw the music paper down on the floor in frustration. “Damn it! He says he won’t keep secrets from us, but he does, he always does! There’s obviously something bothering him, and it’s something to do with Mamoru-san, otherwise he wouldn’t say something like *that*, but does he tell us, oh no!” “Perhaps he doesn’t feel it’s important,” Xavier suggested. Isamu snorted, and yanked the paper off the floor again. “Doesn’t feel it’s important?! If it’s affecting him like this, then it’s got to be important.” He put it down on the stand for Xavier to inspect, got up and walked around, muttering under his breath. Xavier ignored him as usual, and began to sightread the music. There were words jotted under the notes, preliminary lyrics that would certainly change over the weeks, but Xavier sung them anyway. “‘She’s got my number, she always did, she can always see where my secret’s hid, everything about me is hers to tell, she’s got my number, she always will...’ She?” He turned and cocked an eyebrow at his cousin, who was still moving around the room in restless anger. “This wouldn’t happen to be Hino Rei-san by any chance?” Isamu stopped and gave Xavier a cold, dark look that told him very clearly to BACK OFF. Xavier did so. He’d just wanted to distract Isamu for a moment. Now that his mission was accomplished, he sightread the rest of the music, singing along in a low tone. Isamu stood still, listening to him, frowning in concentration. Xavier finished the song and stared at the music for a moment before commenting. “You aren’t very optimistic about this, are you?” Isamu ignored the question and took his phone out of his pocket. “I’m going to phone Ken-kun. Someone has to talk to Hi-kun about what he said, and Ken-kun’s the only one around at the moment.” Xavier nodded. He took hold of the piano lid and pulled it down to cover the keys. “I wish Helga-san knew about us...” he said softly, staring at the polished ebony. “You and me both, but Hi-kun’s never going to tell her, and we certainly can’t, so there’s no point in wishing, is there?” Isamu said, flipping down to Ken’s number and pressing the call button. The phone rang for about half a minute, and then a groggy voice muttered, “Do you know what time it is?” “Don’t ask stupid questions, I need you to talk to Hi-kun,” Isamu said, watching as Xavier turned off the lights one by one. “Now?” Ken propped himself up on one elbow and grabbed at his watch. “It’s quarter past two! Can’t it wait until morning?” “If it could wait until then, do you think I’d be calling you now?” Isamu demanded, just about stopping himself from yelling. Ken would almost certainly go back to bed if he started yelling, and switch his phone off just to make sure that Isamu couldn’t get through to him. Ken dropped his head into the pillow. He could tell just from the way Isamu was speaking that he wouldn’t get any peace unless he did this. “And what is so terribly urgent that you need me to speak to him at this ungodly hour?” He listened as Isamu explained, waking up a little as he heard the reason. “Okay... I get that he shouldn’t be thinking and saying these things... but is me speaking to him NOW really going to make much difference? Face it, Isa-kun, I’m not exactly the most tactful person. We’d have a better chance tackling him together.” Isamu jumped to his feet and paced about. “This isn’t about getting him to see he’s wrong, it’s about making him realise that he’s necessary, we need him, bla bla bla. I’d come over myself, but he’d just get defensive. He’s not so defensive with you.” “Yeah, isn’t that funny?” Ken muttered, running a hand through his hair. “If you’re not going to do it, just say so, but I wouldn’t phone you unless I thought it was important.” Isamu gnawed on his lip as he waited for Ken’s reply. Xavier sat watching him; the only light left burning was the one near the door, leaving half of Isamu’s face in shadow. Xavier wished he had a camera to capture the image. It was a perfect illustration of his cousin’s character. There was a long sigh over the phone. “Fine, I’ll do it. But I can’t promise anything, Isa-kun. You know what he’s like when he’s got an idea in his head. The only person who could probably convince him he’s wrong is Mamoru-kun, and that ain’t gonna happen for a while.” “Just do your best, okay? Ganbatte,” Isamu said, and hung up. He looked at Xavier and Xavier looked back. Then they both stood up and left the room. Xavier turned the light off and closed the door. “Do you think he’ll manage it?” he asked as they went up the stairs. “He’ll do something, I just don’t know what,” Isamu replied. Meanwhile, Ken lay in his bed wondering why it had to be him. It wasn’t that he disliked speaking to Takehiko, more that he seemed to end up floundering in some way or another whenever they spoke. Most of the time, he could laugh at this, and he knew that Takehiko wouldn’t mock him or hold his naďvety against him; but if he was trying to convince Takehiko of something, he always ended up failing, and Isamu knew this. Ken rubbed his hands over his face, then sat up and stumbled out of the door to the living room, where Takehiko was lying on the sofa, sketching something. Only the table lamp was on, so the room was full of shadows, and Takehiko did not realise Ken was standing there for some minutes. Then he felt someone watching him and looked up. A small smile appeared on his face, which just made Ken feel even worse. Takehiko was so rarely relaxed, why did they have to talk about something which was bound to activate all his defenses? He collapsed in the armchair, rubbing his face. “Can’t sleep? That’s not like you,” Takehiko said, putting his sketchpad on the coffee table and propping his head up with a hand as he studied his friend. Ken avoided his gaze and took the sketchpad, looking at the drawing. It was a woman, her back turned to the viewer, exposed in a long, beautiful dress that swept the floor, its shoulder straps tied with bows, the waist decorated with a massive bow that had long tails trailing away. The woman’s hair was partly up and partly down, and she was glancing over her shoulder with the beginnings of a smile. Ken stared at her for a moment, frowning. He had the feeling he should know this woman. Then he dismissed the thought and put the pad back on the table. “She’s pretty...” Takehiko glanced at the drawing, smiling wistfully for a moment, and then looked at his friend. “Ken-kun? What’s wrong?” Ken took a deep breath. “Xavier-kun told us about his conversation with you this morning. Is it true? Did you almost tell Mamoru-kun that Kunzite didn’t exist?” He found himself hoping against hope that it wasn’t. Xavier did exaggerate the truth sometimes, maybe this was one of those times... The warmth faded from Takehiko’s face. He looked at the ceiling. “I should have known Xavier-kun would tell Isamu-kun... and I suppose he told you to talk to me about it?” Ken’s heart sank. So it was true. He didn’t bother to answer Takehiko’s question, attacking with one of his own. “Why? I don’t understand why you feel this way, Hi-kun, none of us do. Why did you almost say that to him? He would have been crushed!” “Why? Because it’s the truth.” Takehiko stared up, seeing not the ceiling but Mamoru’s face, full of anger and desperation. Ken sat up, sleep forgotten, horrified and outraged in equal measure. “No! How can you say that-?!” “Because it’s true.” The utter certainty in Takehiko’s voice was chilling. “The Kunzite he knew doesn’t exist anymore. He’s dead. He’s been dead for years. He died when he sold his soul to Beryl. Therefore I am not the Kunzite Mamoru-san’s looking for, Ken-kun.” Takehiko closed his eyes, looking exhausted. Ken stared at him, appalled. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You’re wrong!” he cried, trying to make the words forceful, as Isamu would have done. “You’re so wrong! You ARE him! How can you even think you’re not?! You take such good care of us, you’ve led us all this time...” His voice faded. The words evaporated in his mouth. Why couldn’t he make his point? Why couldn’t Isamu have done this? He would have made Takehiko understand. “The Kunzite Chiba-san is looking for doesn’t exist,” Takehiko repeated. “He’s looking for an honourable man, and all he gets is me.” Ken felt ready to explode. “You ARE an honourable man! What have you done that’s dishonourable?! Name me one thing!” He folded his arms, waiting. Takehiko laughed dryly. “Where do I start...? Let’s see, how about the fact I betrayed my prince TWICE?” “We all did, Hi-kun! Because we were brainwashed! We’re all *equally* guilty-!” Takehiko held up a finger, looking at the window. Ken stared at him. Then he heard it, too. A soft scrabble, the merest whisper of sound. Someone was trying to get in. The two men looked at each other, then Takehiko nodded. Ken got up, pretending that they were still arguing. “Equally guilty,” he repeated, moving towards the window, which had a small ledge underneath it that a resourceful burglar could easily balance upon. “We were *all* victims, Hi-kun, so don’t take the blame upon yourSELF-!” He lunged and grabbed what should have been the intruder’s neck, except that he didn’t feel skin or wool, he felt fur, and there was an angry hiss, a sound Ken knew all too well. He lifted the cat into the light and gaped. “A-Artemis...?” This was not the cat who had curled up in his lap and purred at him this afternoon. This was a raging, spitting, snarling ball of fur that was trying to claw him. His green eyes were glowing, his voice was almost a shriek. “Don’t play the innocent with me! I know who you are, Ken-san! Or should I say, NEPHRITE!” Ken sighed. “You know, you could have been a little less corny.” He got more spitting in reply. “I was hoping you wouldn’t find out for a while,” he continued. “We were getting on so well.” Artemis glared at him, and Ken knew that appealing to their previous friendship wasn’t going to work. “How *did* you find out, anyway?” “Usagi-chan and Luna generously decided to tell me whose lap I’d been sleeping in,” Artemis growled. “Now put me DOWN!” “Not if you’re going to leap in my face and scratch my eyes out,” Ken replied dryly. “Exactly why were you trying to get inside? What were you going to do? Pee on our furniture? Rip the curtains?” “He probably thought we were plotting another world take-over,” Takehiko pointed out. “What else would he think? It’s logical... given our previous acquaintance.” Artemis had stiffened at the use of ‘we’. He’d heard another raised voice, but the man could have been an ordinary flatmate, and anyway, he had been concentrating on getting up to the window ledge, then into the flat. But now he was inside, he recognised this voice with every cell of his body. It was as calm and deep as a mountain lake, unruffled but with a suggestion of profound depth. It had authority. He turned his head, watching the owner rise from the sofa and walk towards them. “Put him down,” Takehiko told Ken, and Ken obeyed, setting the cat on the back of an armchair so that Takehiko didn’t have to crane his neck. Artemis’s fur was still standing on end, but he wasn’t snarling or spitting anymore. He was still and watchful, eyes fixed on Takehiko’s face. “So it’s you,” he said. “I thought... I hoped... that I was wrong. But I should have known, Usagi-chan wouldn’t have asked me those questions...” Ken looked at him, then at Takehiko, puzzled. “What questions?” “I’m not here to cause trouble, I just want to protect my prince,” Takehiko answered, ignoring his friend. “It’s what we *all* want to do.” “So you say, but you have a habit of causing trouble,” Artemis said, narrowing his eyes. “Hey, if you’re worried about trouble, talk to me or Isa-kun, not him!” Ken snapped, fed up of being excluded from a conversation that was about more than words, worried because he’d seen Takehiko’s fingers twitch, as if he wanted to clench his fist. Artemis glanced at him for a moment but he didn’t respond. He began to wash his leg instead, back in control once more. “He knows what I mean.” “Yeah, but you really should be more worried about Isa-kun than him,” Ken pointed out with a smirk. Artemis stopped washing, and Ken felt a small glow of triumph as the white tom glared at him. “I don’t want her getting hurt. You should tell him to leave her alone!” Ken laughed. “If you’re so worried, why don’t you talk to her about it?” Artemis growled and looked away. “I have. And she won’t listen to me.” “Wait a minute!” Takehiko said sharply, making them both jump. “Isa-kun is interested... in your mistress?” Artemis lifted his head. “What, he didn’t tell you? Oh yes, they seemed to enjoy each other’s company *very* much. To the point that they were almost ignoring everyone else.” He jumped down and walked to the window. “I’ll be keeping an eye on you. *All* of you. Any sign of trouble, and I’ll tell the senshi who you are.” “You’d go against Usagi-san?” Takehiko questioned. Artemis turned his head. His eyes gleamed strange colours in the neon city lights. “Only if you force me to.” Then he was gone. Takehiko sank down into the armchair, staring into the distance. Ken watched him nervously. “Hi-kun? Are you... okay? What were you and Artemis talking about - *who* were you talking about?” “Artemis was, and is, the guardian of Sailor Venus,” Takehiko answered quietly without looking at him. “Venus?!” Ken repeated, his eyes widening. “Shit...” He sat down in the chair opposite. “I don’t believe it... and Isa-kun *knew* that, but he still...” “He didn’t mention it to me,” Takehiko said, talking to himself. “He didn’t mention her *at all*... but then he wouldn’t, would he? Not if he remembered... but if he remembers *that*, how can he not remember what happened between them?” “Hi-kun?” The uncertainty in the voice and the pleading in Ken’s puppy dog eyes brought him back to the present. He shook himself internally: now was not the time for thinking out loud. “It doesn’t matter,” he said. “If Isa-kun was flirting with her... well, flirting is one of her hobbies, if she’s anything like she was last time. It doesn’t have to mean anything. I don’t believe it does mean anything, not to him at least.” He remembered the tortured look in Isamu’s eyes when he spoke of Rei. That was genuine. This flirting was just camouflage, he was sure of it. And Ken was right, Isamu was a grown man. He could handle himself. /It’s none of my business.../ His eyes fell on the sketch. How could lines of graphite manage to capture something like that smile? He stood up. “Come on. It’s late.” /None of my business./ * * * Days passed and still Mamoru didn’t call. Ken thought it was funny, since they were acting like he’d stood them up. Isamu didn’t see it the same way. “He ought to have worked it out by now!” he fumed one afternoon, at the centre of a paperwork sea, his notes spread out in widening circles depending on the subject. “All that intellect and he can’t see what’s right in front of his nose!” “So he’s not good with instincts, that’s just something we’ll have to work on,” Ken said with a shrug. “He’ll call.” “Yeah, when we’re back at uni and absolutely swamped.” Isamu glared into space. Ken grinned. “It’s nice to be the patient one for a change... why *are* you so impatient, anyway? You’re not looking for an excuse to see Minako-san again, are you?” Isamu smirked. “Excuse? What makes you think I need an excuse? We’re meeting up this weekend.” Ken’s eyebrows rose. “A-lone?” “There’s no need to look like that, and no, not alone. Hino-san insisted on coming along, for some reason.” Isamu gathered one set of notes and began to read them. Ken snorted. “Probably so you don’t take advantage of her friend?” “Take advantage?” Isamu laughed heartily, but his eyes remained on the writing and diagrams in front of them. “Minako-san *wants* me to take advantage of her, Ken-kun. She’s *begging* me to corrupt her.” Ken got up from where he was sitting. “Yeah, I know, and Artemis isn’t happy about that.” Isamu paused, then shrugged. “She’s a senshi. She can handle herself, she doesn’t need a nursemaid.” “She can handle herself, but can she handle you?” Ken asked, leaning on the back of the settee and watching his friend. Isamu stopped reading, put down his notes, then picked up another set. “That’s up to her, not him. Anyway, why are you so worried? This isn’t going to be anything serious!” He smirked again. “Just a bit of fun... we both know that.” “If it’s just a bit of fun, why didn’t you tell Hi-kun about it?” Ken asked. His tone was light, but his eyes demanded an answer. “Because I had more important things to discuss with him, that’s why,” Isamu replied, his eyes cool with warning as he glanced at his friend. “More important than Minako-san?” Ken said, bewildered. “You two were generating enough electricity to light up the National Grid.” Isamu looked back down at his notes and he shook his head. “Ken-kun, you can’t understand. You just don’t remember.” There was a large thump – Ken had just smacked the back of the sofa, bristling with anger. “No, I don’t remember as much as you two, but that’s no reason to treat me like an idiot! At least *try* to explain, Isa-!” “If I could, I would, Ken-kun. But the truth is, I don’t remember that much about it myself. I have to go on what Hi-kun says. And... I’m finding that difficult. Our memories don’t coincide.” “Don’t coincide?” Ken repeated. He walked around the sofa and sat down, staring at his friend. “They contradict each other? How?” “He seems to remember something which I don’t, something which couldn’t possibly have been there,” Isamu said shortly. Ken flopped down, staring at the ceiling, thinking about this. He couldn’t remember a time when Isamu’s and Takehiko’s memories hadn’t agreed. Why was everything changing now? Meeting up with their prince should have crystalised everything, made them certain of what their path, yet they were wandering around in circles, more lost than ever. But when it came to Isamu’s memory against Takehiko’s, Ken knew where he was. “No offence, but Hi-kun’s memory’s usually better than yours,” he said, knowing that Isamu *would* take offence. “Not in this case!” Isamu’s voice cut the air. “I don’t know why he remembers something that wasn’t there...” “The problem with memory is that it’s subjective,” Ken interrupted. “You might not remember this thing because you don’t *want* to. Maybe it’s too painful for you. So you’ve convinced yourself it didn’t happen. People have been doing it for centuries.” “Yeah, and who’s better at facing the truth, me or him?” Isamu challenged, sufficiently annoyed to stop what he was doing. “He went around for months hoping that his memories weren’t real. Look at him now! Still in denial that he’s Kunzite, doubting that Mamoru- san will be pleased to see him.” “He might not be,” Ken said reasonably. “Mamoru-kun wasn’t exactly impressed with him.” Isamu waved this objection away. “Once he finds out who Hi-kun is, that won’t matter. Not to him. You heard him in Elysion, ‘where’s Kunzite, what have you done with Kunzite?’.” “But I thought you said that they didn’t always get on,” Ken said, frowning. “I mean, they *were* human, it couldn’t have been wine and roses *all* the time.” Isamu rolled his eyes in a patient way. “Ken-kun, the mark of a stable relationship – platonic, erotic, whatever – is the knowledge that you can scream and shout at the other person, and you’ll be able to carry on afterwards.” “You must have a really good relationship with Hi-kun, then,” Ken said snidely. Isamu looked furious, but any words were stopped by a shrill ring. Ken reached out one long arm and swiped his mobile from the table. Isamu watched him with narrow eyes, plotting his revenge. “Moshi moshi? Mamoru-kun?!” Isamu’s eyes widened as Ken bolted upright, his whole body focused on what he was hearing. “Mm... mm... right...” He glanced at Isamu, but shook his head at the beginning of a question. “No, we’re not doing anything – yeah, he’s here... okay. Yeah, let me get you the address.” Ken curled his fingers over the mouthpiece and stage- whispered, “He’s coming over!” Isamu leapt onto his feet, careless of his notes and grabbed a revision card, scribbling the address down in hiragana to save time, but Ken shook his head. “Okay... well, see you soon, I guess. Ja.” He hung up and looked at Isamu. “He already knows the address.” They stared at each other in silence. A few streets away, Mamoru slipped his phone back in his pocket. “They know we’re coming.” “Good, that’ll give Isamu some time to tidy up,” said Xavier, tightening his scarf around his throat. “He always spreads his notes everywhere. I think it’s territorial.” “You said you were looking for me,” Mamoru interrupted, glancing over. “Why?” Xavier looked back at him, the green eyes patient. “Don’t ask stupid questions – you know why I was looking for you. And I know why you were on the way to talk with Isamu and Ken-kun.” Mamoru looked down at the pavement. The concrete gleamed dully from the recent heavy rain. It was one of those days where everything looked grey and it seemed like winter would never end. People hurried past them, shoulders hunched against the weather, diving into the golden doorways of shops and restaurants with relief. “But I’ll pretend, if you want,” Xavier went on, seeing that Mamoru wasn’t going to say anything. “I know Isamu’s been getting very impatient that you haven’t contacted him or Ken-kun, so I decided to take matters into my own hands.” “Why?” Mamoru bit his tongue, but too late, the question was out there. He’d resolved to be silent until they were all together, but as usual curiosity had overpowered him. Once engaged on a quest he wouldn’t stop, he would take any answer he could get, and he was sure that Xavier knew it. “Why what? Why have I made a move?” Xavier smiled slightly. “Because if I’d left it to the three of you, nothing would have happened. Isamu’s too proud to do anything, and Ken-kun’s too carefree. Isamu hasn’t contacted you because it’s a matter of personal honour, he wants you to ‘give in’. And you’re the same way, aren’t you?” He glanced at the taller man, but his gaze was kind, not mocking. “You didn’t want to be the one to admit defeat.” Xavier sighed at such obstinacy and continued. “Then there’s Ken-kun; *he* hasn’t contacted you because he doesn’t think you need the pressure. But he’s assuming you’re like him. Ken-kun reacts negatively to pressure, but you don’t. I remember him telling me that you seemed to thrive on deadlines when you were at Harvard. Well, you wouldn’t be there if you couldn’t handle pressure, would you? But Ken-kun has a bit of a mental block when it comes to analysis. So... I felt that I had to step in. Get things moving, so to speak. That answer your question?” “You see a lot, don’t you?” Mamoru said, but the challenge was gone from his voice. He could see that talking with Xavier was at once easier than talking with Isamu or Ken, and yet harder. Xavier didn’t care about scoring points of any kind, so it was difficult to score points against him. “Someone has to be the observer,” Xavier replied. “Isamu sees things, but he gets too personally involved. Ken doesn’t look hard enough. So I have to look out for them.” “What about Takehiko-san?” Mamoru asked. “Do you look out for him, too?” There was a hesitation in Xavier’s step, slight, but Mamoru was an observer as well, so he noticed it. “No, Mamoru-san” he said slowly, pausing at a crossroads. “Hi-kun... he’s very observant. He sees things about other people very clearly. But when it comes to himself... he doesn’t see clearly at all.” “Nobody sees themselves clearly,” Mamoru said with a shrug. “But he doesn’t know about this, does he?” Xavier returned the shrug. “I haven’t told him about it, but... that doesn’t mean he doesn’t know. You can never tell with Hi-kun.” “Oh well, it doesn’t matter, it’s not like this concerns him,” Mamoru remarked. Xavier looked up at that, his eyes suddenly sharp. “You don’t think this concerns him?” he repeated. “After the way you acted in that dream, I would have thought it concerned him most of all.” Mamoru opened his mouth but Xavier crossed the road, and Mamoru had to run to keep up with him, following him down a small sidestreet and into a residential area. Even on this dark wintry day, the buildings seemed to gleam smartly, their windows coloured blocks of light. Mamoru knew that their destination was shared by Isamu and Xavier, and as someone who lived alone, he was always curious about a home that was shared – how the space held different personalities, how you could see the personalities interact in the various rooms... Of course, his flat wasn’t totally his anymore – Usagi’s presence had slowly infiltrated every room. It actually felt like a home now. Xavier walked up some long white steps and waited under the overhang of the reception. Mamoru realised with a jolt that they’d arrived. The doorman greeted Xavier respectfully. Mamoru concentrated on looking calm, even though the orphan inside him was gawking and saying ‘Well, we’ve really come up in the world, haven’t we?’ After making polite conversation with the doorman, Xavier walked down the hall to the lifts, and Mamoru followed him. Neither of them said anything. The surroundings breathed money, and Xavier didn’t even seem to notice. Mamoru fought a small pang of envy. The lift doors slid open smoothly, and a voice announced the floor they were on, the direction they were going in. Xavier pressed the number 3 and the doors slid shut again. His face was perfectly blank, forcing Mamoru to ask another question. “What has the dream got to do with Takehiko-san?” Xavier rolled his eyes and looked impatient for the first time. “Well, he was *in* it, and he told you what you needed to do. So how can you not think this concerns him?” The doors opened and he walked out and down the corridor. Mamoru leapt out after him, just before the door closed. “If it concerns him, why isn’t he here?” he demanded, catching up just as Xavier stopped at a door. Xavier didn’t answer; he took out a doorkey. Mamoru grabbed his shoulder, too frustrated by Xavier’s silence to care about the rudeness. There was a split second when Xavier’s eyes met his, wide with shock - then memories flooded into Mamoru’s brain, an overwhelming collection of images and sounds. He put a hand up, blocking them instinctively, so that they separated and vanished like bubbles. Only the sensation remained, the most bewildering part of all. Pain. Xavier’s memories tasted of pain. Mamoru stared at him. How could he have so many? This was a young man who’d grown up in a rich family, his every need met, his whims probably indulged more often than not. He had the best of everything. Why did his memories could hurt so much? Xavier turned away from the stare. “It’s rude to do that, you know,” he said quietly. “Have you forgotten everything we taught you?” Mamoru swallowed and said without thinking, “Gomen nasai, Zoisite.” Xavier looked at him for a moment. “Apology accepted,” he said with a nod, then inserted the key into the lock. /Apology accepted? Wait a moment-!/ Suddenly everything came together, like one big puzzle laid out before him in shining colours. “Zoisite!” he said again in a whisper. Xavier turned and looked at him patiently. “Hai, shujin?” It was amazing how one word could call up such a flood of memories, a rush of emotion. Tears blinded Mamoru for an instant and he blinked, looking down, his heart pounding in delighted disbelief. It was true. It was all true. Xavier pushed the door open and walked inside, calling out “Tadaima”. As Mamoru followed him, the hallway was suddenly blocked by Ken, beaming at them both. “You’re here!” Mamoru smiled, the delight inside him cresting, becoming a wave as he looked at Ken. “Nephrite.” Ken’s gave a jaunty little salute with two fingers. “Yo.” “Give him some room to breathe, Ken!” Xavier said, pushing him to one side and slipping away before Ken could retaliate. Mamoru laughed out loud for a moment, and then he quickly unlaced his shoes and put on some slippers. When he straightened, Ken was gone and Isamu was watching him, leaning against the wall with his arms folded, a pose that was so familiar it made Mamoru want to laugh all over again. “I know you, Jadeite,” he said. Isamu smirked. “And about damn time,” he replied, coming forward. They clasped each other at the elbow in the old familiar greeting, then embraced. There was a moment of happy silence, which was broken by Ken bounding over to the phone. “Ah, this is great! I gotta phone Hi-kun, he should come over!” “Kitano-san?” Mamoru said, frowning and looking at him. “Why does he need to know about this?” Ken and Isamu stared at him. “Why does he need to know?” Isamu repeated. “Why do you *think*? Because he’s one of us!” * * * “He won’t believe it, you know,” Takehiko said, swirling the wine in his glass and gazing out at the bright mass of Tokyo on the horizon. “When he finds out who I am, he’ll be speechless.” “I don’t see why,” Setsuna replied, sipping from her own glass. “You haven’t changed much from last time. And I mean that in a good way, Takehiko-san.” Takehiko smiled a little. “I didn’t make a good first impression.” “Oh really?” Setsuna glanced at him, an amused smile on her lips. “Try threatening your future queen with extermination and attacking her with the most powerful attack you had in your possession.” “But didn’t you know it was her?” Takehiko questioned. “Whether I knew or not is immaterial, the point is I still attacked her. And she’s never held it against me.” Takehiko laughed. “I admit I can’t beat that, but this is Usagi- chan. She’s a naturally forgiving person. She loves you all.” He drank from his glass and Setsuna took the opportunity to roll her eyes. “And Endymion loved all of *you*. Still loves you. I don’t understand why you think it will be so hard to win his trust. All you need is some time to talk with each other... in as much as men ‘talk’.” High up in the sky, a helicopter began to descend, its whirring sound coming closer and closer. Takehiko did not respond straight away; when he did speak again, it was in a softer, more thoughtful tone. “He doesn’t like me, that’s why I think it will be hard to win his trust. I’m not what he’s expecting, not at all.” “Usagi-chan wasn’t everyone’s expected idea of a princess,” Setsuna remarked. “But we’ve all grown to love her and see that she’s suited to her position. And let me tell you something...” She leaned towards him slightly. “Mamoru-san’s first impression on Usagi wasn’t very impressive, either.” She saw his mouth open in the blinding light of the helicopter, but the sound was drowned out by the wings. Setsuna slammed the window closed as Tenou 1 touched down on the landing pad and they both moved further into the room. Takehiko was staring at her, intrigued. “You were saying?” she asked, closing the curtains to block out more of the noise. “Was his first impression really that bad?” Setsuna smiled at him and swallowed the rest of her wine. “Yes. You really have nothing to fear, Takehiko-san. Leave the pessimism to me.” Takehiko was about to reply when his phone rang softly. He apologised to her and opened it. “Hi-kun?” said Ken’s voice without any preamble. “He’s here. He knows. You gotta come over, quick!” Takehiko froze for what seemed a long time. Then he licked his lips. “I’ll be right there,” he promised and hung up immediately. “Trouble?” Setsuna asked with a sympathetic smile. Takehiko shook his head, his mind in a whirl. “He knows,” he whispered. “I have to go... now.” “Ah... of course.” Setsuna took his glass of wine and touched his arm. “Good luck. And... try not to look like you’re going to your execution. You’re paper white.” Takehiko tried to smile, but it was no use. He did feel like he was going to an execution of some sort. Whatever happened, it was going to be bad. Setsuna could tell him to be optimistic all she liked, but then she’d seen the death of a civilisation. Her idea of a catastrophe differed from his. “I’ll speak to you... later,” he managed. Setsuna nodded and showed him out silently. She watched him walk down the pathway and then turn down the street. “So who was that?” said a roguish voice behind her. Setsuna considered her answer before turning around. “No one special, Haruka. No one special.” Takehiko waited until the front door closed before teleporting. He had developed this ability fairly recently, and it required a fair amount of energy, so he did not use it very often. Still, this was a very important occasion, and if he looked like a wreck when he arrived, so what? At least that might stop a few of the questions Mamoru was bound to throw at him. He nodded at the doorman, walked through the revolving doors and took the lift up to the third floor. He could feel his heart, banging against his ribs. Had it ever pounded this much before? He couldn’t remember. It wasn’t surprising. This was the culmination of so much hoping, working, searching... it was the end of the beginning. The beginning of their real work. /He doesn’t have to like me, just tolerate me. Like he did last time./ Takehiko paused for the smallest moment. That last thought hadn’t been his. It came from someone else entirely. His heart sank. /Typical,/ he muttered. /Why do you have to show up now?/ /Excuse me, but this is an important occasion, and I have a right to be here, after all, I *live* here./ /Not by my choice!/ Takehiko retorted, and rang the bell. The door was yanked open by a grinning Ken, and Takehiko was pulled inside without a word of greeting. “He’s HERE!” Ken yelled, almost dragging Takehiko’s coat off him in his enthusiasm. “Thanks, we’d never have guessed, it’s not like the doorbell rang,” Isamu’s voice retorted from around the corner. Takehiko unhooked Ken’s hands from his coat so that it didn’t rip. He hung it up, slipped his shoes off and put some house slippers on. His heart started attacking his ribs again as he walked into the living room. Mamoru was sitting on the sofa, watching him, doubt plain in his eyes. “Ohayo,” Takehiko said quietly. Mamoru nodded back. “That’s it?!” Ken exploded. “We haven’t been on the same side in actual bodies for millions of years and all you two can do is *nod* at each other?!” “Seems rather familiar to me,” Xavier said with a slight chuckle. Mamoru cleared his throat. “Takehiko-san...” Takehiko nodded, still standing, every part of him focused on the young man in front of him. His prince. They looked at each other for a moment, then Mamoru said slowly, as if waiting for a denial, “Kunzite?” Takehiko swallowed and bowed, pressing his right fist to his heart. “The Four Shitennou of the Earth salute their prince and pledge themselves once more to your service, shujin.” Mamoru’s eyes suddenly blurred with tears. A burning wave swept over him, and he couldn’t speak for a moment. He saw the thin dark outline of Takehiko rise and begin to speak once more. “Jadeite.” Isamu came forward and bowed formally, just as Takehiko had done. “I, Jadeite, Guardian of the East, do solemnly pledge myself to your service, shujin.” Mamoru nodded, still speechless, hoping that Isamu would understand. “Zoisite.” Xavier got to his feet and did the same. “I, Zoisite, Guardian of the South, do solemnly pledge myself to your service, shujin.” He caught Mamoru’s eye and smiled a little. “Nephrite.” Ken grinned and bowed at the same time, an undercurrent of joy running underneath his voice. “I, Nephrite, Guardian of the West, do solemnly pledge myself to your service, shujin.” He winked at Mamoru as he straightened and Mamoru laughed suddenly. Takehiko waited until the laughter died away and spoke the last words, his voice quiet but intense. “And I, Kunzite, Guardian of the North, do solemnly pledge myself to your service, shujin. We are your vassals, do with us what you will.” And all four of them knelt on one knee. Mamoru took a deep breath and stood. The stones were warm against his skin. A breeze touched his face and he blinked, looking around. The flat had melted away. He was standing on the golden grass of Elysion in the lavender suit of King Endymion. And the four men kneeling in front of him were in uniforms as familiar to him as his own: brown cloaks, brown trousers and a white tunic quartered by a golden shield. “Well,” said Elios, who was standing at his right hand. “Are you going to accept their allegiance?” Mamoru turned his head and looked at him for a moment. He was not surprised to see Hestia and Camilla were here as well. This was a formal Elysian ceremony. He turned back to the kneeling men. “Rise,” he said, “and serve me well.” “We shall guard you with our lives,” Takehiko replied, as was tradition, and suddenly they were back in the flat in ordinary clothes. Mamoru had the familiar sensation that Elysion had only been a dream. They stood there, looking at him, waiting. “So... now what?” he said, and they all laughed at him. The walls between past and present dissolved and time didn’t matter anymore. He could be in Elysion, he could be in Tokyo, but it didn’t matter whether he was a prince or a med student because they were laughing and everything had suddenly clicked back into place. “Well,” said Xavier with a small smile once the laughter had subsided, “I think you’d better phone Usagi-chan and tell her the good news.” “And I’m going to open some sake because this calls for something special,” Isamu said with a nod. “You clear up your notes, I’ll get the sake,” Takehiko corrected him, already walking towards the kitchen. “Stop ordering me about in my own home!” Isamu retorted, marching after him. “I told you *I’d* get it.” Xavier rolled his eyes and began to gather up some notes by himself. Ken smirked and looked at Mamoru. “You see? Nothing changes,” he said. Mamoru looked around with a small smile. “No, it doesn’t,” he said softly. He could hear Isamu trying to argue with Takehiko in the kitchen, the bright flashes of Isamu’s voice answered by quiet, deeper replies. Xavier was kneeling on the floor, his curly head bent over Isamu’s notes, temporarily lost in something that had caught his eye. Ken sat down beside him on the sofa and handed him the phone, his eyes bright with anticipation. /No, nothing’s changed at all,/ Mamoru thought. DISCLAIMER: All characters and situations belong to Naoko Takeuchi and Kodansha Comics. “The Exiles” is based on information given in the MANGA. This story is beta read by the wonderful Dejana Talis; much of its coherency is due to her. The lines that haunt Mamoru’s head in Elysion are from Andrew Lloyd Webber’s “The Phantom of the Opera”, and are written by Charles Hart. I don’t own them. Finally, the lyrics that Xavier sings are actually from the song ‘She’s Got My Number’ by Semisonic. I don’t own that, either. AUTHOR’S NOTES: Sorry that it was such a long wait – uni sucked up all my energy and time in the autumn and then the second half of the chapter gave me problems. Hopefully, Chapter Five won’t prove such a problem. Now for review responses! SmileyBecka: If you’re a Rei/Jadeite junkie, there’s not much I can do to change that. *lol* I’m glad you enjoyed all the Rei/Isamu sparks and the confrontation between Isamu and the crows. I loved writing that part and better still, when I read it over again, I can see it does exactly what I want it to do. As for what kind of torture they could inflict... pecking a man’s eyes out? Great to know you liked the conversation between Isamu and Takehiko: look out for more of that in the next chapter! As for the cliffhanger – I couldn’t very well let Artemis tell you everything, could I? You must show, not tell, in writing. ;) Hope you didn’t die while waiting for the update. blue: I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as the last one. arcticrose: Thank you very much for the compliments! Stay with me. Kihin: My most ardent follower (and that’s saying a lot with all these shitennou fangirls), what can I say that I haven’t said already? Thank you for your support and your insight into the characters. Yes, Takehiko’s a dad. Yes, be wary of Isamu and Minako. And if this were a proper official work, I have no doubt that someone would ship Isamu and Takehiko, regardless of Isamu’s obvious heterosexuality.