Thursday after D-Point: some grimly whimsical part of Mamoru, sitting on the edge of the big Kunzite-shaped planter, briefly toys with the idea that his internal calendar might fixate on 'time passed since the world almost ended'. Grimly, because what's now known as World War I was once known as 'the Great War', the 'War to End All Wars'. It's really only a small part, though.
They finished the setup of the apparatus earlier that day, those who weren't currently enrolled in school doing a lot of the building, and those who had to join only once classes were done completing the job. Sometime in there, Mamoru'd withdrawn once his part of the setup process was done, letting people know he wasn't going far and could be reached; he left with the clearish pinkish stone in his hand.
Of course he was back in time, and he'd looked a little more at peace.
Once everyone dispersed, the prince went back to Kunzite's palace by himself. Now he's there, perched on the legs of the likeness, his own feet resting barefoot on the back of the rumblingly sleeping caracal guardian of the place. The place is still and quiet, sounds muffled by the stone walls bedecked in high tile patterns of blue and gold, late low afternoon sunlight pouring in from the windows and doors open to the sand. It's painted everything gold. He looks like he's reading a booklet, light glinting off his glasses.
Ami had taken the time to inspect each and every component of this ritual, one portion at a time, ensuring that everything was to exacting specifications. The clay sarcophagus, the amount of earth and soil, the arrangement of the seeds. It's not that she's micromanaging (she totally is), it's that literally she's only got one shot at bringing Kunzite back. And she's nervous.
Nervous enough, in fact, that several hours after the job is done, she returns to the scene of the plan, slipping quietly through the spaces between Jadeite's palace and Kunzite's, so that she can take another scan of the planter and ensure everything is just right.
She didn't expect to find Mamoru here.
Sailor Mercury pauses the moment she spots the quiet prince, and studies him from afar. For a moment, she debates simply leaving. Then she decides better of it, and heads towards him with a slow, measured pace.
Glancing up, it takes Mamoru a moment to focus-- not physically, but on the present, from wherever his mind was. When he does, he smiles a little ruefully, taking off his glasses and putting them in the breast pocket of his uniform shirt. The booklet gets closed, but not put away; he just holds it loosely, hands on his lap. The caracal opens one eye a crack, sees Mercury, and goes back to his nap. (Mamoru scritches his giant back with his toes.)
"Ami-chan," he says in greeting, warm and low-voiced. "Am I in your way? I can move."
Ami shakes her head, just faintly, and finishes her approach. "No, it's fine," she says quietly. "I'm just fretting like a nervous hen. Probably better for my health to keep you in the way. It will prevent me fussing."
She smiles at him faintly, then reaches out a hand to touch the sarcophagus. She's quiet as she runs her hand along the likeness of Kunzite's forearms, then sighs and pulls her hand away. She takes a step from the sarcophagus, then glances towards Mamoru. "What're you reading?"
There's that smile again, smaller, less rueful. Maybe a little more self-deprecating. A little embarrassed. Wordlessly, he holds up what he's "reading"-- it's a passport. "It's not mine. I'm not really reading, just... thinking. I'm letting him sleep, I should leave him alone. Jell--"
The caracal's ear twitches, and more dangerously, so does his tail.
"--icle over here's most excellent at keeping watch. Come sit?"
Mamoru moves over slightly, making room on 'Kunzite's' legs. "There's something I promised to tell you."
That draws a confused look from Mercury, but she does move to join Mamoru on Kunzite's 'legs'. She hops up and dangles her feet down to the floor, then turns to regard him curiously. "Promised to tell me?" she asks, arching a brow. "That sounds ominous. No wait, don't tell me," she says, reaching up to touch her forehead as if she could divine the future, "Zoisite wishes a truce, but is too scared of me to say it himself. Am I close?"
Mamoru lets out an inelegant snort of a laugh, looking down at the passport in his hands again. "Nah. He feels most awkward with Jadeite, even though he literally saved him from worse than death with that fake stab. He knew it was fake, but... I guess Jadeite didn't know he knew. I mean, he does now, but he hasn't seen him long enough to apologize anyway, so..." There's a one-shouldered shrug. "There's plenty of time to sort it all out now."
Then he looks sidelong at Ami, one corner of his mouth pulling down a little. "At D-point, Agera-san died saving my life. I tried with everything I had to heal him, but something in him was fighting my energy. He was trying to tell me to tell you he liked you, but he couldn't really get it out. I mean, I know he's fine now, but a promise is a promise. And I thought you should know what he did. Even if we still don't like each other."
Ami smirks just a little at the explanation of Jadeite and Zoisite 'knowing' past one another. Hijinx seem to follow them into the absurd--especially where Zoisite is concerned. But Mamoru's next sentence draws her attention back to him fully, and she blinks at him twice as she replays what he said mentally.
"Wait, he did what?" she asks, furrowing her brows in confusion. "But Takashi-kun hates you. And I got the impression you hated him. Why were you two even together? Why would he sacrifice himself for you? That makes no sense at all."
Now one corner of the prince's mouth turns up. "Hate's a strong word for someone who's basically just a really smart asshole. I mean, don't get me wrong, I really really really don't like him and definitely think you can do better, but I don't hate him." A little laugh and he goes back to turning the passport over and over in his hands, looking at it idly. "And yeah. He might hate me, but he really likes you, and your opinion matters to him."
Letting out a breath, Mamoru explains a little slowly, more out of a desire to find the right words to be fair than anything else. "We got cut off from the rest of the group in that magical blizzard at the start. Ended up on a frozen lake that Kunzite said he'd never found any shores or exits from. We were surrounded, and I figured we'd just fight until the rest of you found us-- I didn't know everyone was already involved in fighting the elite squad. So we were fighting and fighting, we had each other's backs because at least neither of us was a youma, you know? And then there was a really big one, and-- he didn't expect to die. He thought he could handle tanking the hit aimed for me, and maybe he could have, but he got distracted. And when it hit him, he did something-- basically blew up the giant one and the rest of the smaller ones, broke the pocket dimension. And I tried, Ami, I tried so hard--"
At this last, he's looking at her again, almost pleading. His eyes sting and his knuckles are white where he's gripping the passport.
Ami reaches up to grab Mamoru's hands, giving him something less easily broken to apply his grip to. "Stop," she begs him softly. "You don't want to damage it," she notes, glancing down at the passport, then looking up to meet Mamoru's eyes.
"You couldn't save Takashi with your healing," Ami notes gently. "It's not possible. It would be no more effective than healing Kunzite while his body was only a dark energy construct. He was born possessed of dark energy, and all of his magic is fueled by it. When Usagi-chan escalated him, it put him in the hospital for almost two weeks, because she nearly destroyed all of the darkness within him. It's not your fault, and you didn't fail him, or me, or whoever it is you are worried you have failed."
Ami smiles at Mamoru, then explains, "Maybe I can do 'better', as you claim. Maybe. But 'better' hasn't come along and played chess with me. Nor has it helped me alert Virtue to Zoisite's plan to zombify half the city, or how to reverse that effect. Better also hasn't literally shared its life force with me to ensure I could keep living when Kunzite crafted a poison so vile and personal that escalation could not save me. But," Ami notes quietly, "I'm still not convinced all of this is a good idea. I'm going to save him, Mamo-kun. And I'd like your help with that. But saving him and being his girlfriend aren't the same thing. And if Usagi-chan and Mako-chan and Rei-chan all think dating him is a bad idea, I won't date him. If you tell me it's a bad idea ... I won't date him.
"But don't blame yourself for his death," Ami says gently. "It wasn't your fault, and you did everything you could for him. If he sacrificed himself for you, then that just proves that he is worth saving. So I'm going to save him."
Letting Ami take his hands, Mamoru still doesn't let go the passport, but he also stops holding it so very tightly, and he listens to her. Somehow, somehow, he manages to avoid actually crying-- maybe because he did that already, where no one but Kunzite could see; maybe because he did it again, all over Zoisite after they all got back; maybe because he's too emotionally drained, or still stubborn, always.
But he listens, and he lets Ami's earnest calm seep in and make him calm too, and when she's done, he's looking down at their hands and he chuffs out a thick-sounding laugh. "I'm not going to tell you not to date him. But separating saving him from dating him-- that also makes me feel better."
Glancing back up at Ami, he gently withdraws his hands and goes back to turning the passport over and over. "I know we hadn't spoken a lot before everything happened. And then even after you guys all got me out, I wasn't in much shape to talk, and you were all busy, and you-- yeah. I know what he did. It wasn't him, really, but... I know. I just want you to know, Ami-chan."
His hands finally still, and he looks at once like the Prince that Rei said he couldn't hide being, so many months ago, and like the awkward and desperately lonely boy that was hidden behind an aloof, untouchable mask, the first time any of them met him. "I want you to know how much what you've done means to me. How much I appreciate it, and will never forget it. You argued on my behalf when none of the others would, you argued on behalf of my brothers, you worked so hard for so long, you worried so much. You're tenacious and brave and unfathomably intelligent. If you argue on his behalf, what can I do but listen? I believe in you."
Ami lowers her hands back to her lap when Mamoru pulls away. She's not going to force him not to fidget; just try to help him avoid damaging something that is clearly of value. The senshi tilts her head just a little as he stills of his own accord.
Then the tears begin to well in her eyes. Ami reaches up to wipe them away, before smiling a little and averting her gaze. "It's not their fault," she tells Mamoru quietly. "It was never their fault, any of it."
She sniffles just a little, wipes her eyes again, then takes a deep breath and lets it out quickly before turning to regard him again. "I just kept thinking to myself: what did we do wrong? And in every case, the answer was one of trust. We didn't trust Endymion not to hurt Serenity. We didn't trust the Shittenou to guard her. We didn't trust ourselves to react in time to save her." Ami shrugs, just a little, then explains, "When we planned out the Orphanage trap, I made a commitment to myself that I was going to trust that no matter what happens, we could win this war, and we could do so by trusting one another, and you, and the people you put your faith in. It hasn't always been easy," Ami explains softly.
"But I trusted you," she continues. "I trusted your Shittenou. And every time they broke free of Metallia's influence, I saw my trust rewarded. It was only when Metallia held control that they were dangerous. My near death experience was not Kunzite's fault, but my own--and Metallia's. But ..." she trails off. "But I really am grateful that you appreciate it. I'm still scared that I made mistakes--that maybe I ostracized people I should not have. Venus and I ... are still not healed. I need to speak with her, but I'm afraid to. I guess I should trust that the bond we share will see us through. But I'm still scared."
The great thing about senshi gloves is that they're tear-absorbent.
Mamoru smiles the tiny little affectionate smile again, the one that's much more expressive in and around his eyes than his mouth, and he runs a thumb idly over the passport as he listens to Ami.
Finally, it's him reaching out, him lightly placing a hand over hers. "She came through in the end, you know. And it wasn't just you she'd been cutting. I think she'll be a lot easier to talk to now that the Dark Kingdom is destroyed.
"She didn't even know what she wanted, only what she didn't want-- and I think she saw what the Shitennou were willing to do to protect the people she cares about. She saw Nephrite die to protect me, and Mako-chan with him to protect us all, let us keep going. She saw us keep going, despite our losses. She saw Rei-chan, then Zoisite, die to protect Usa. She could finally trust them, too... and she told Usa how much she believed in her. It'll be all right. It really will."
He squeezes her hand briefly, then withdraws again, and smiles a little crookedly. "I think you can trust your bond, now that she trusts it's there."
Finally Mamoru glances down at the passport again, and laughs. Finally he opens it, and shows Ami whose it is. It's expired, but it shows a white-haired teenager, serious and determined and a little intimidating. Kazuo Takeba. Unmistakeably Kunzite. "They all had lives, too, in the here and now. They were looking for me, too."
Ami takes a deep breath again, then lets it out slowly and offers a faint nod to Mamoru. He's right, and she knows it. That doesn't ease the fear much, but at least it's there. Thankfully, he doesn't force her on the issue any further. She's not ready for that, yet.
When he shows her the passport, hse glances down at it, then tilts her head and smirks. "He was cute," she notes, though her smile falters as the implications settle on her. He was cute. Now he is dead. And unlike the rest of them, he doesn't get to return to that body. That body--the one in the picture--is almost assuredly and truly dead.
Ami's eyes begin to well up again, but she wills herself not to cry. Instead, she just looks at Mamoru, worry and fear so evidence. "Mamoru, if I didn't ... I mean if I'm wrong ... if he doesn't ..." she can't bring herself to finish it. Her confidence in this plan remains so very tenuous.
"Then he'll still be a ghost tied to a rock that I won't let go of for anything," Mamoru says firmly-- and this time, he pockets the passport and leans over to put his arms around Ami and hug her close. Of all the hugs in the world, this one is probably the big-brotheriest, for someone who's not actually anyone's real big brother.
"This might be a long shot, but trying it isn't going to hurt him. If it doesn't work, maybe someday another kind of miracle will come along -- but I'm going to trust in this one, okay? It might sound funny, but--"
He's loosened his hold a little, she can pull away if she wants to. "The way I explained it to Neph, the way I'm thinking of it, is it's like a circuitboard. All of the elements you specified, all of the ones I added, all of the conditions that we looked at later and they seemed right, or more correct, all of the explicit specificatons -- that's you with a soldering iron, making sure the connections are going to be routed correctly. Making sure that the right resistance happens in the right places, making sure everything's lined up to cover the bases. And instead of electricity to set it off, it's magic: the magic of everything the real him is made from, of what our hearts are born from.
"The solder, the mapped connections, instead of being holes punched in plastic following a map of electrical symbols-- the components are symbols corresponding to the things that make us what we are, embodied and representative and alive and magic. I thought about it a lot. It really, when picked apart and given the fact that literal magic is part of the process, actually does make perfect sense. It will work, Ami-chan, I have absolute faith."
Ami leans into the hug, allowing her forehead to rest gently on Mamoru's chest. In that embrace, all of her pent up stress and fears are all too evident; she's taught as a crossbow, ready to snap if she isn't fired soon.
But as Mamoru provides the analogy, piece by piece, little by little that tension begins to drain. And when the explanation is through, she isn't completely without tension, but certainly it's a more manageable amount. She nods her head, once, then finally puts her arms around him and squeezes back, gently, before allowing herself to hang there in his embrace a little while longer.
"Okay," she tells him quietly. "Okay. I'm going to trust in this, too. I did the math," she explains to Mamoru. "I did the math, and the probability of success on this is almost ninety-two percent, now. I've been fretting so much over that nine percent, but ... but you'er right. There's really nothing else I could have done at this point. Takashi told me that at some point I just have to accept that I've done everything I can, and the rest is out of my control. Which ... means I just have to trust that I've done enough."
She leans back and looks up at him, then leans in for one more hug before putting distance between them again. "I'll try to share your faith," she says. "Besides, he worked so hard to free all of you. I'm sure he'll work just as hard to get back to you all."
"He knows he's needed," Mamoru agrees, matter-of-fact. He rubs his bare feet on the caracal again, and the quiet distant-thunder rumble of the giant cat's purr increases, like a storm moving in. The upperclassman laughs; he can't help it.
Then he looks up at Ami again, and it's a grin on his face, quirky and mischievous. "And when he comes back, you two can complain to each other about me and my reliance on faith."
Ami sniffs amusedly at Mamoru, then rolls her eyes and leans away. "Believe me, we will spend many hours complaining about this," she promises quietly. Then she hesitates, glances up at him, and admits, "Even if it is nice when that faith is placed in me."
She smiles at him, then bounces to her feet, "I should get going. School tomorrow. Some of us still have a decent attendance record to maintain." She leans in to give Mamoru a brief hug, then turns to head for the space between palaces again. She doesn't offer him a word of goodbye. They'll see each other again soon.