Evening downtown, and the arcade's afternoon crowd has given way to the later crowd of older teenagers and those in their early twenties who aren't out at bars. The fact that it's Sunday night means that the street's a lot less crowded than it could be, since the places around here tend to let out all at once when they close instead of being busy with coming-and-going this late on a school- and work-night.
Mamoru Chiba, looking rather better than he has for the past week, is still a little bit rekt; he's leaning against the outside wall of the arcade with a cup of coffee, waiting for his friend Saburo to show up. He'd offered a ride, but there'd apparently been things to do, so the teenager's just sort of hanging around.
Not gonna lie, he feels like a delinquent, all hanging out in front of an arcade at night.
"I could had sworn I felt one here!, bawak!?" says a chicken woman. "YEAH WELL YOU WERE WRONG!" yells a Bee Man. Hadenya and Bunbee are here and they are generally unhappy at one another. "NEVER TRUST POULTRY!" points Bunbee- a manbee thing on top of a rooftop with a chicken woman who is Hadenya. "NEVER TRUST A HONEY MAKER!" yells Hadenya. The two get into a fight. There is a dust cloud.
"YEAH WELL!---/I'M/ not gonna screw up so Desparia can throw YOU OUT THE WINDOW INSTEAD! I'M LEAVING A KOWAINA AND THEN WE'LL FOLLOW THE OTHER LEAD!" yells Bunbee. "GO KOWAINA!" yells Bunbee as he throws a sort of mask onto the poster advertising a new robot game. The two immediatly dissapear- letting the Kowaaina take the form of a giant chrome video game robot with red eyes behind a mask. (http://vignette2.wikia.nocookie.net/prettycure/images/2/29/Body_kowainar.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20090723145233)
"KOWAINA!" it yells out. It begins leaning down into traffic- shooting lasers of dark energy and overall making a big fuss and Mamoru is in the middle of this all happening as things get chaotic as dark youma robot laser sweeps happen, leaving scorched black in it's wakes.
It's not like he's actually any stranger to chaos and dischord, being ostensibly an agent of it. It's not like he's not /used/ to the screaming and the destruction, although Jadeite usually prefers a little less /fire/ in his machinations. This isn't that strange. Having not even remotely been the cause of it, or even seemingly related to anyone who was the cause of it, /that's/ a little weird. Having it happen while he's undercover and theoretically just meeting a friend for friend-type activities, /that's/ just /enfuriating/.
The blond's head snaps up immediately at the sound of the conflict, frowning as the robot just kind of makes itself happen out of the poster and proceeds to shoot a whole lot of things. Jadeite draws himself up by the shoulders, straightening his spine, and just kind of disappears from where he'd been standing. He reappears on top of the arcade without any preamble, abruptly dressed in a neat-pressed grey uniform with jackboots and blue trim. He seems to be taking a few vital seconds to take stock of the situation.
Mamoru knows his coffee will be a completely lost cause the second Bunbee and Hadenya start yelling at each other. He stands there staring for a second, then finishes it hurriedly and starts edging away. This isn't going to turn out well, and-- it's been long enough, right? He should have energy enough to henshin, to turn into Tuxedo Mask, to call the Senshi, to call Virtue-- right?
But he's gotten to the alley, and nothing's happening. He can't change. He starts to hit the Virtue communicator to sound a call to arms just as the fight between the two bad guys kicks up and they unleash a monster on the populace with no buildup, no speeches; he grits his teeth--
--and just before he calls for help, he gets a splitting headache and a call from his soul; Sailor Moon's just henshined across town.
All the more reason to call in reserves, if he can just see straight for a minute--
--but then a kid rushes by in front of him, screaming for her mom amidst all the chaos, the fire and screaming and panic, and he stops thinking altogether as he sees a telephone pole start to come down just as she's pausing on the sidewalk, wailing.
Mamoru's brain completely shuts off and his reflexes kick in, and the boy darts out from his alleyway, dives for the kid, tumbles with his body shielding her, and scrambles to pick them both up to get the sobbing kid to her mom, who's frantically screaming for the little girl. "Go go go get out of here just RUN take her and RUN--" he yells, scuffed and abraded.
They run. Instead of running, himself, the idiot runs back TOWARD the fires and panic, clearly intent on getting other people the hell away until the heroes show up.
The big giant robot is a big giant ramapging robot. WHO WOULD HAD THOUGHT THAT!? It seems to be /searching/ for something as evidence by the fact it picks up a car. Looks under it. and puts it down. What is it looking for? Do you even know? Probably not. The Kowaina doesn't seem very intrested in /people/. Regardless, Mamoru yells and it gets it's intention. It throws down one of it's arms near Mamoru and seems to sort of scan him for a moment. "Kowa?" it asks.
"KOWAINA!" it yells as it lifts it's arm and smashes near Mamoru---though not directly on him.
Jadeite does not know this monster. This is not a monster of the Obsidian Pact or the Dark Kingdom. He has no control over it- nor anyone he can yell at to make it stop.
Before this particular moment in time, Jadeite would not have gone so far as to say he had particularly /heroic/ sensibilities. He's less concerned than maybe he should be about the city being laid to ruin or random small children being crushed unfortunately under street lights. /Mamoru/, however--/Mamoru/, Jadeite is concerned with. Part of him wants to be able to justify this as a professional concern; after all, he's been told he needs to sound this strange young man out, mark and claim him for the Dark Kingdom and whatever nefarious plans Beryl has for his energy. Part of him doesn't even /think/. It just sees Mamoru in trouble, and it /panics/.
He teleports again, this time to appear just in front of Mamoru, between the youma and his friend. He doesn't think. Eyes wide with worry but hard-edged with determination, he flings up a wall of ice with a gesture, trying to bully Mamoru backwards with his body. The creature he addresses in a strident, ringing voice, one used to being obeyed. "Stop this at once!"
The black-haired boy with the disheveled hair and the crooked glasses and the scrapes and tears in his clothes-- to say he's shocked would be the understatement of the century.
He's easily shoved back by Jadeite, losing his footing and landing unceremoniously on the ground behind the blond Dark General. His mouth hangs open. He sees the wall of ice go up, he hears Jadeite's voice, and while his conscious mind is hitting this abort-retry-fail loop of 'what the HELL?' as he tries to figure out what's going on, something in the back of his soul is relieved as hell, feels like the cavalry's arrived, feels like--
--feels like he's not alone. He takes a second to breathe.
While Mamoru's just breathing, mind on a mini-vacation, something bubbles to the surface. He doesn't even realize he's shouting, has no idea it sounds like a command of its own as it comes out:
"JADEITE! AIM FOR ITS MASK!"
The creature is stopped by a sudden wall of ice. But that seems to be the reason it stops. It does not seem particularly intrested in obeying Jadeite- though this has caused it to be thrown off it's apparent search and into an attack mode when a powered opponent appears.
The create fires it's LASERS through the ice--to begin to start melting it and trying to get past it while crushing forward. Jadeite is going to either whisk Mamoru away from this thing or attempt to destroy it. Luckily, Mamoru tells him just where to hit!
"KOWAINA!" it insists.
Shock delays his response for a handful of seconds at most. Mamoru shouldn't know that name. He /shouldn't know/ that /name/, Jadeite has been /careful/, diligent almost to the point of /pain/, to keep this identity separate from his false one. There's been no falts and no faltering, he /knows/. Yet there's that /voice/, resonating in him like something finally right in a whole lifetime of wrong, and THAT, that causes a falter. He hesitates, turning back to look at Mamoru with widened eyes, and this is of course when one of the youma's lasers helpfully explodes through a weak point in the ice wall, showering Jadeite with shards.
Those aren't the problem, /those/ don't seem to harm him at all. The laser that comes /with/ them and cuts deep into his side, however, /that/ seems to be a problem. Jadeite gives a sudden cry of pain, transmuting it into one of indignant anger at the end of the sound. No more time for distractions. He turns his face back to the youma, expression as cold as his power, and raises one hand. "Have it your way."
A thousand little spikes of ice form in the air, hovering for less than a second before Jadeite sends them all streaking towards the mask at a velocity so quick they seem to blur together into one enormous spike. The other hand curls around his injured side, but Jadeite isn't retreating or, apparently, moving an /inch/ from his place between the monster and Mamoru.
Blue eyes meet blue in equal shock and total lack of comprehension, and then the thing shoots again and the lasers break through the ice, and the look in Mamoru's eyes is a gut-deep resonation of empathy, of sympathetic pain, of panicked horror.
This, too, is familiar.
All of a sudden Jadeite's twisting around and Mamoru's scrambling to his feet behind him, hands up and out-- he has no attack, he has nothing. There's nothing he can do to help. There's nothing he can do but stop being a distraction. Maybe the hands are held up to catch the blond general, maybe he's planning on grabbing him and running if it doesn't work out-- but he can't outrun lasers, either.
He prays, without any understanding, that Jadeite's attack works.
The creature is big, large, raging. It's not very intelligent. It probably percieves no danger. It doesn't react as it's lasers cut into Jadeite, or at the yelling and it doesn't pause when they pause and exchange looks of odd emotions and confusing words. They have this things attention wether they want it or not.
Then Jadeite launches a barrage of ice needles at it in a sudden fast hard blue and they slam into the mask repeatedly. The robot screams out in pain as the mask begins to crack-- and it wails and calls out- as it has been- that single word. "KOWAINAAAAAAA!"
There's a bright flash as the mask cracks into two and flakes away.
A poster of a robot catches the breeze and lands somewhere on the ground. It's as pristine as it was when it was taken and turned into a monster. Only the lasers on the poster seem oddly shinier.
Dimly, in the back of his mind as Jadeite watches the youma's mask crack and the whole thing fall apart, the Dark General begins to think maybe he understands why the youma the /Dark Kingdom/ send out always seem to be so easily defeated. He clambers around the edges of self-awareness without ever actually falling into it. Equally dimly, in the back of his mind, Jadeite is aware that he should be retreating, going off somewhere that isn't where Mamoru can see him, especially since he foolishly put his /uniform/ on.
Neither of these things actually catch enough traction for him to do anything about it. Instead, Jadeite staggers a step backwards, and another, still clutching at his injury. The remaining ice disappates, and Jadeite makes a sound of pain, face scrunching up around it. He needs to look at how badly he's been hurt. The /pain/ is enough that he doesn't want to. He's probably ruined his gloves.
And there's the black haired boy who knows his name, somehow, right behind him-- he catches Jadeite as he staggers, pulling the blond Heavenly King's arm over his shoulders, supporting him hurriedly into the closest alley. Mamoru is determinedly Not Thinking. He's not thinking about any of this, he's just letting himself react, letting himself trust his own gut. The second there's contact, the pain is lessened, replaced by a golden warmth like sunlight, full of peace and stillness and welcome.
Energy, but not the same as the stuff he collects.
As soon as they're in the alley, Mamoru's lowering Jadeite to the ground and crouching next to him, one hand still on the other boy's shoulder. "Hold still," he says firmly, already moving his other hand to place it over the wound, "this won't hurt if you hold still."
What the hell is he doing? Healing the enemy? Healing the enemy so he can go out and hunt down Sailor Moon? No: no, he'll get in the way, Mamoru will get in the way if that happens. He'll just have to focus his attention more carefully. And right now, he has to keep not thinking about this. Jadeite got hurt helping him. Got hurt saving his life.
His touch doesn't hurt.
Mamoru's long-fingered, strong hand, warm as it is, is cool and painless against the burning nerve endings. It takes the pain away, all of it, and something that feels like home takes its place: that sunny peace, that warmth and golden brilliance, that feeling like the ground is more solid than it's ever been and the forests and oceans and mountains of the whole earth are in concert, offering a place that tastes like forever and a joy that feels real.
It's this kid he's supposed to be keeping an eye on, determinedly healing his wound, willingly giving him his own energy, and the energy doesn't feel like anything the Dark Kingdom works with.
The very first thing that crosses his mind is /relief/. Mamoru is safe, his duty fulfilled, and if this is how it goes, at least Jadeite has that comfort. He did his job. He did it /well/. He's a good, he's a good, a good--
No, *wait*. He *isn't*. That energy floods him, simultaneously /so familiar/ and so /foreign/, and Jadeite is abruptly reminded that this isn't his duty at all, no matter how much it feels like it is, or should be. Maybe he wonders why it isn't, as he's moved to the alleyway. He's too hurt and too completely blindsided by these fossilized half-memories to fight being moved, so his mind wanders instead, wondering why /this/ isn't the energy they're trying to pull from Mamoru, why /this/ isn't what they've been collecting all along. It feels good. It feels /really/ good, nothing like the cold, sharp-edged energies that Beryl has him bring him. Isn't this better? Why isn't this better? It seems like it should be better.
Dizzy, he allows himself to be laid out onto the ground, making soft sounds of protest in the back of his throat. He doesn't move, partly because he /hurts/ and partly because obeying Mamoru feels...appropriate somehow. This feeling of comfort and belonging, acceptance, even, is something he's been without for so long Jadeite isn't certain he's ever *actually* felt it before. He gasps like he's just come up for air after holding his breath for his entire life, and tries to put the fingertips of the gloved hand not covered in his own blood on the inside of Mamoru's wrist. "...you...?"
He doesn't even really know what he's /asking/. Maybe for this moment not to /stop/.
"Hang in there," Mamoru murmurs, removing his hand from Jadeite's shoulder to place it against the blond's hand on his wrist, concentration fully set on mending, on directing his own energy to heal, on pouring that energy in unreservedly. And then Mamoru comes up against the darkness that Jadeite's been flooded with, the darkness that corrupts him, and there's nothing Mamoru can do for that.
Still, though the flood of energy slows and stops, as long as that contact remains, so too do the warmth and acceptance, the feelings and sensations that this black-haired mystery's unfettered presence awakened.
Jadeite's side is whole again, and Mamoru's energy is low. That in itself should answer a few questions for Kunzite, at least. The high-schooler's clearly tired, but smiles crookedly at Jadeite, and that is an expression that belongs on that face, so strange and so right all at once.
"Me," he agrees mildly, sitting back on his heels, still not losing contact. "Thank you for saving my life. Fixing what it cost you is the least I could do."
Then Mamoru gets to his feet and pulls away, finally. His expression's sad, and gets a little distant. "Please don't think that means I'm interested in helping the Dark Kingdom. Nephrite may have claimed I belong to you, but I strenuously object. If you'll excuse me, now, I have a friend I was supposed to meet in front of the arcade, and I should track him down, make sure he's all right after all that nonsense."
Mamoru severs the contact and Jadeite kind of wants to /cry/. It's ridiculous, /ludicrious/, he's far beyond such foolish displays of emotions, but there's this /pressure/ in his chest, like burning. He can recognize it as a desperation to have that /feeling/ back. He closes his eyes for a couple of seconds, resolutely builds a wall of ice around that fire. He shuts it down from every angle he can think to approach it from, because he can't afford anything else. This sentiment might get him killed. Worse, it might get his /brothers/ killed.
He's so close to saying something, insisting to Mamoru that he *knows* him, in a way Jadeite can't articulate, in a way that he can't explain. It's a familiarity that isn't at all excused by their so-far casual friendship when Jadeite is Saburo, and yet there it is, and he's about to expose it when Mamoru mentions Nephrite. The ice hardens. Jadeite's eyes snap back open, although he's still laying on his back, seemingly vulnerable as he looks up at his friend's face. "What did you do to Nephrite?"
Maybe it was /this/, Jadeite muses privately after a second's worth of thought. It could have been this. This feels like it could break him, if he gave it enough room to grow.
Mamoru'd started to walk away, but his footsteps pause, and he glances back at Jadeite on the ground, hands in his pockets. He looks honestly puzzled. "Do? I didn't do anything. He stopped me in the park and asked me a bunch of weird questions, and I answered the ones I knew the answers to, and then a friend of mine came looking for me and he let me go and left. I don't even know why he singled me out, he wouldn't tell me. I haven't seen him since then-- that was months ago."
How annoyingly unhelpful. Jadeite makes a brief sound of frustration. He needs to get out of here, he needs to go wrap himself up in his disguise again because, as terribly ironic as this seems, Mamoru's *expecting* him. Still, he finds himself saying, voice low and unhappy, "He singled you out because you belong with us."
Jadeite isn't even sure why he knows that. He just *knows*, deep in the blackened heart of him, that this is the absolute truth. Trying to explain that any further risks things he can't afford to risk, so without any other warning, he just fades right out there on the ground, dissolving into fuzz and then nothingness. He needs to go get himself back together.
With us
Mamoru stands there and stares at the unhappy Dark General on the ground, and all of a sudden there's an ice cold fear running down his spine, gripping his heart and squeezing.
The worst part of it is--
He can't deny his own actions, his own reactions and feelings tonight.
That fear isn't of Jadeite or the Dark Kingdom taking action against him. That fear comes from one thought:
What if he's right?