For the past weeks, since Queen Beryl loosed Dark Endymion on the world, he has either been with her in the throne room or wandering the empty halls of those parts of the Dark Kingdom once wrought by human hands, aeons ago. More of the latter of late-- she has been in a foul mood, and not so desirous of his company as she had been at first, though of course her whims were apt to change from moment to moment. Endymion was accustomed to this, and always accomodating...
...but he now only brought her reports she asked for, even if he continued to research and calculate theoretical projections on his own.
Tonight had been the first time he'd been to Earth: in his recollection, the first time ever. It had energized him, it had served to clear his mind of some of the dark fog of confused depression that had settled upon him, it had provided him with an offering of energy to appease Queen Beryl, and it had been hilarious. In Endymion's estimation, the human custom of 'Christmas' was, after all, not so bad. The sense of outrage in heroes that messing with it achieved was just as precious as the collecting of human energy.
So it is that now, having just returned from the scene of his initial foray into active utility in the name of the Dark Kingdom, Endymion is once again in the desolate halls of the ancient palace complex from which the rest of the Dark Kingdom grew--
--and he is laughing his ass off, so hard he has to lean against a wall, holding his stomach.
There are a number of things that are not commonly seen, in the Dark Kingdom. Love is one of them; Beryl may choose it, as their unchallenged Queen, and there are a few youma that study it and specialize in its exploiting, and once in a while there are brief whispered rumors about one General or another acting for no clear cause - Jadeite in the last few hours before Beryl calls him in, perhaps, or Kunzite for a moment indulging his most poisonous student - but for the most part affection is an alien thing ascribed to humans and humans alone.
Laughter is another. Queen Beryl may laugh openly. Youma may laugh quietly, in the shadows, exulting in some victory by the masters to whom they owe allegiance, or showing up some rival. Nephrite laughs, sometimes, when his Queen acknowledges him; but that is always in the throne room. Zoisite laughs, sometimes, when he's come up with a particularly clever or wicked idea; but Zoisite has not walked these halls in months. And even then, it's most often subdued, kept hidden.
But laughter is there, now, and it echoes.
It's anomalous. Strange. Disturbing, even by the Dark Kingdom's standards of disturbing; it is entirely out of place. A new thing, where new things are generally new kinds of mutation and decay.
So of course, Kunzite follows it. Trailing the echoes through the twisted and twisting halls, through the places where they defy normal geometries and physics, through the places where the sounds vanish only to reappear in an adjacent hall. He's had a very long time to learn the palace's tricks.
He clears the last corner, and stops. And looks at Endymion.
At some point, 'looks' turns by imperceptible stages into 'stares.'
And Kunzite had told the girls he'd try to keep Endymion sane. It doesn't look like he's off to a great start, does it?
Endymion's still in civilian clothes, though he's taken the shades off: wearing one's sunglasses at night is one thing, but in the Dark Kingdom, where there's no reason to attempt to remain anonymous, wearing them in the dark is just silly. But certainly, black clothes, black leather jacket. The hat's gone so his hair's pretty messy. The one upside in this potentially disastrous fit of unseemly behavior is...
...the laughter doesn't sound remotely unhinged. It sounds real and honest, pealing loud and clear and getting breathless as Endymion sinks, sliding down the wall.
When Kunzite is close enough to see who's laughing, when he stops and stares, no matter how silent he'd been in his approach? The boy turns (with no small effort) to face him, tears streaming down his cheeks as he holds his guts and laughs and laughs and laughs. "Oh-- oh gods--" he gasps between fits, wiping at his eyes with the sleeve of the sweater over the heel of his hand, protruding from the sleeve of his coat. "K-kunzite... ahahahahaha!"
He remembers? He remembers who Kunzite is?
Is this a trap?
No. Of all the things Beryl could make Endymion do, Kunzite is certain, she couldn't make him laugh like that.
He schools his features, pushing his reaction to that certainty out of the forefront of his mind. "Prince Endymion," he answers, impassive mask firmly in place, and approaches. One hand's put out to steady the boy, to draw him back up to a little more of his full height, or at least to give him something other than the wall to lean against. 'What the hell are you doing' is not communicated out loud. Just with a flicker of his eyelids.
Just to see if the boy can catch that, too.
And like no one else save Zoisite, the boy can read Kunzite like a book, even laughing so hard, even with his vision suspect with the tears of laughter. He tries, oh he tries, to contain himself in order to answer. Even as Kunzite is helping him up -- and that close, Endymion smells unmistakeably of fried chicken on fire -- he's swallowing giggles and trying to school his face.
He has to lean on Kunzite; he's gasping for air, and he's trying so hard, oh SO hard, and finally manages to get it together long enough to start explaining.
"I-- I went to Earth-- to collect some energy," he says, the laughter still in his voice, gasping to catch his breath as he leans. "And uh-- it worked? It was-- it was kind of--"
Oh no, he's looking a little green; he clamps his hand over his mouth and is laughing again but he's also fighting gagging between giggles.
Endymion's weight is not particularly a burden for Kunzite. He's careful to keep the boy on his good side, granted, but even if not, it wouldn't be enough to worry him. He's also careful not to set the boy off again - for a little while, all he's doing is supporting him. Until Endymion manages to get his breath back, to get a little more self-control. He waits. Patiently.
Until it's safe for him (or safe for his uniform, at least) to cock an eyebrow down at the Dark Prince and inquire, "How exactly did you manage to collect energy by setting a poultry farm on fire?"
That, of course, just sets him off again.
It takes Endymion a moment to focus again, hand firmly over his mouth and eyes shut, clearly attempting to think of something neutral and not funny at all. It mostly works, and it at least gets him to stop almost retching, though the laughter threatens to return at any second. He briefly buries his face in Kunzite's arm, grinning like an idiot, and his voice is breathless and wobbly as much as it's muffled by grey sleeve.
"No, it's-- there's a human custom-- Christmas. A lot of people go to places called 'KFC', apparently, to eat fried chicken. So I-- I put some dark energy in the chicken at one of these places, and it drained a little from everyone who ate it, but someone ate too much and collapsed when some magical girls happened to be there? So I sent back the energy I took, and let back a little bit more of it to animate the infected chicken..."
He starts giggling again, and maybe the words are a little harder to make out. "And-- and they started fighting a giant fried chicken youma that had the KFC logo's head on it-- and it shot grease everywhere-- and Sailor Moon had eaten some-- so she made herself throw up--
It's another thirty seconds before he continues, because he's gripping Kunzite's sleeve, trying to muffle the laughter in it.
"...and someone decided it'd be a great idea to, to make a fucking hurricane in there and pick up grease and barf and chicken bits to throw it back at the youma--" okay another retch and more laughing, "--and it got EVERYWHERE and... and..."
Now he can't stop laughing again, "...another one of the girls decided the best-- the best course of action here-- was to deal with all this grease-- BY TAKING A FLAMETHROWER TO IT!!"
There are a number of things that are not commonly seen, in the Dark Kingdom. Love is one of them; Beryl may choose it, as their unchallenged Queen, and there are a few youma that study it and specialize in its exploiting, and once in a while there are brief whispered rumors about one General or another acting for no clear cause - Jadeite in the last few hours before Beryl calls him in, perhaps, or Kunzite for a moment indulging his most poisonous student - but for the most part affection is an alien thing ascribed to humans and humans alone.
Laughter is another. Queen Beryl may laugh openly. Youma may laugh quietly, in the shadows, exulting in some victory by the masters to whom they owe allegiance, or showing up some rival. Nephrite laughs, sometimes, when his Queen acknowledges him; but that is always in the throne room. Zoisite laughs, sometimes, when he's come up with a particularly clever or wicked idea; but Zoisite has not walked these halls in months. And even then, it's most often subdued, kept hidden.
But laughter is there, now, and it echoes.
It's anomalous. Strange. Disturbing, even by the Dark Kingdom's standards of disturbing; it is entirely out of place. A new thing, where new things are generally new kinds of mutation and decay.
So of course, Kunzite follows it. Trailing the echoes through the twisted and twisting halls, through the places where they defy normal geometries and physics, through the places where the sounds vanish only to reappear in an adjacent hall. He's had a very long time to learn the palace's tricks.
He clears the last corner, and stops. And looks at Endymion.
At some point, 'looks' turns by imperceptible stages into 'stares.'
He remembers? He remembers who Kunzite is?
Is this a trap?
No. Of all the things Beryl could make Endymion do, Kunzite is certain, she couldn't make him laugh like that.
He schools his features, pushing his reaction to that certainty out of the forefront of his mind. "Prince Endymion," he answers, impassive mask firmly in place, and approaches. One hand's put out to steady the boy, to draw him back up to a little more of his full height, or at least to give him something other than the wall to lean against. 'What the hell are you doing' is not communicated out loud. Just with a flicker of his eyelids.
Just to see if the boy can catch that, too.
Kunzite says, "I-- I went to Earth-- to collect some energy," he says, the laughter still in his voice, gasping to catch his breath as he leans. "And uh-- it worked? It was-- it was kind of--""
Endymion's weight is not particularly a burden for Kunzite. He's careful to keep the boy on his good side, granted, but even if not, it wouldn't be enough to worry him. He's also careful not to set the boy off again - for a little while, ''all' he's doing is supporting him. Until Endymion manages to get his breath back, to get a little more self-control. He waits. Patiently.
Until it's safe for him (or safe for his uniform, at least) to cock an eyebrow down at the Dark Prince and inquire, "How exactly did you manage to collect energy by setting a poultry farm on fire?"
Kunzite says, "No, it's-- there's a human custom-- Christmas. A lot of people go to places called 'KFC', apparently, to eat fried chicken. So I-- I put some dark energy in the chicken at one of these places, and it drained a little from everyone who ate it, but someone ate too much and collapsed when some magical girls happened to be there? So I sent back the energy I took, and let back a little bit more of it to animate the infected chicken...""
Kunzite says, "...and someone decided it'd be a great idea to, to make a fucking hurricane in there and pick up grease and barf and chicken bits to throw it back at the youma--" okay another retch and more laughing, "--and it got EVERYWHERE and... and...""
Right. The human custom. All the fripperies that humans wrap around the darkest part of the year, to try to stave off the night, to reassure themselves that the light is coming. Of course Kunzite wouldn't be the only one to try to use the occasion to pick on the Senshi. And of course visiting Earth would help Endymion regain a trace of his balance, whether he understood why or not. But that really isn't enough to explain the laughing --
Endymion keeps explaining.
Giant fried chicken youma.
Against his will, Kunzite's mouth twitches at the corner.
At the mention of what happened to Sailor Moon -- on the one hand, that, too, explains a little more of Endymion's condition, of the clarity and honesty of his laughter. On the other hand ... no matter how much guilt he feels on the subject, there's still a (literally) substantial part of him that's malign enough to overrule compassion. Particularly since if that's the part Endymion is having trouble getting past, she didn't actually come to harm. The little twitch becomes into a lingering turn upward.
The hurricane puts a fracture in what was left of his straight face.
And the last words are enough to break it entirely, and he starts laughing alongside Endymion, his head bending toward the prince's. After all. There's no hint of human on fire in the smell that clings to him - whatever happened, the girls got out relatively intact. And for someone who's spent as much time with a certain other General as Kunzite has over the last years, the accidental firestorm is ... quite an image.
And it's Endymion. For the first time in this lifetime, things feel right.
Or feel terribly wrong, but with the chance of coming right.
Or feel almost right, in a terrible way.
He doesn't care. After both of them acting up on the two days of the holiday, Venus is going to kill him, and probably literally, but he can't care about that right now, either. It's the closest he's had since he made his bargain with Beryl a lifetime ago. If he doesn't get anything else, he still has this.
He gives in, and leans back against Endymion, and can't stop himself from laughing himself breathless, and doesn't even try.
Laughter in the halls of the Dark Kingdom. Two people. Two people laughing who don't sound insane.
Zoisite's just been recalled from his assignments in the West to begin the search for the Silver Crystal in earnest, and he's already set a plan in motion, the groundwork having been laid in a hurry before leaving France.
Having finished the setup on Earth, he's come back to the Dark Kingdom to seek out Kunzite, afraid his long absence may have set up a schism between them-- but hoping, after all, that it might not be so. That things might be able to fall into place as they were. That things between the two of them haven't changed, and he'll be able to regain the sense of stability that'd been eroding for all his long months away.
But now as he follows the sound of laughter and thinks-- perhaps-- that he may recognise one of the voices...? Zoisite is worried that something's gone wrong, that something may not be as he expects. That something might be so different as to be unrecognisable.
His footsteps are as light and soundless as a cat's, and his face is pinched and pale, and he slows as he approaches the corner around which the source of the laughter resides.
Just enough of his head peers around to see, and to confirm his worst fears-- fears so bad he'd dismissed them as unthinkable during his long sojourn in Paris.
There's Kunzite, laughing as he's never seen him laugh before. And there's another boy, black haired and beautiful, clinging to his Kunzite desperately and laughing just as hard, long and pretty fingers gripping the white-haired General's shirt as the two of them support each other.
Zoisite's stomach is like ice, and his green eyes are like fire, red-gold hair a restrained cloud of ethereal beauty around his delicate face.
The boy slips back around the corner to lean against the wall, feeling sick and furious. So easily replaced? Someone is going to die. Possibly two someones.
And yes: Endymion, at this point, is supporting Kunzite's greater weight with his own; they lean on each other, both laughing too hard to move, limbs weak from it; he desperately wipes at his tearing eyes with his sleeve again, guts aching from the laughter, face hurting from it--
And then he's just supporting Kunzite, his own laughter trailing off, his free hand moving to grip Kunzite's sleeve again. "Kunzite--"
The Prince's gaze, eyes a greyish brown as the red's been leached from them drip by drip, focuses on the corner Zoisite's pulled back around, away from view.
That can stop Kunzite from laughing himself breathless, in an instant. And does. His head comes up, expression blanked out into emotionless focus; he glances the other way for an instant, making sure that whatever caught Endymion's attention isn't just a distraction, but he's already moving. Putting himself between Endymion's body and his point of focus. Not pulling his hand free, but half-lifting the other. "What is it?" he says to the Dark Prince, quietly, and then aloud, with the particular sharp tone that sends youma scurrying: "Who's there?"
He was heard?! Zoisite was certain they'd been too loud, he'd been too quiet-- that they hadn't been looking--
--but it can't have been anything else; he must have slipped somehow, must have let his presence be known in some way. Something. He didn't know what the hell was going on here, but the sound of Kunzite's feet, the sound of Kunzite's name on that boy's lips, the sound of Kunzite moving in front of him, to protect him...?
These are not things he could have mistaken. He can't deal with them right now. Get them separately. The boy first, and then Kunzite. Gather information, perhaps from youma. Find out what's going on. What he's missed. Then deal with the problem.
In a flurry of sakura petals, he's gone, the energy of his departure dispersing in the air even as the petals vanish as, one by one, they drift to the floor in his wake.
"Someone familiar," whispers Endymion, relaxing slightly, finally releasing Kunzite so the commander of the Shitennou can move unencumbered. His voice is louder, conversational, unworried. His face still hurts from all the laughing, and he's a little tired, but he's fundamentally capable of business. "One of us. But he's gone. I couldn't see him."
He straightens out his jacket and falls into henshin with a crackle over his form like freshly-lit self-activating charcoal, sparking in a line over his body from front to back, and he walks unhurriedly after Kunzite, cape lightly and lazily billowing behind him.
When Kunzite gets to the corner to see, the last remaining petal floats on the empty, chilly breeze, drifting past the white-haired Shitennou's face toward the floor.
Someone familiar. Jadeite? He might have been drawn to the sound - he might have fled, too, the mood he's been in lately. Steadiest of them all, in many ways, but in that one he's fragile, and Kunzite can't blame him. Not with the way he heard Mamoru Chiba screaming. Not with what he must have imagined stepping out into the darkness, when Queen Beryl claimed her Prince.
He's gone, but Kunzite is moving anyhow. Was moving before Endymion told him. Doesn't stop, in case there's some sign remaining of where the only other of them that still haunts the Dark Kingdom's halls might have gone --
Kunzite rounds the corner, and stops. And puts out his hand, the only sign of a silent war within him: what passes for his blood chills as quickly as if he'd somehow turned his power on himself, even while part of him is holding its breath, is trying not to burn brighter in sudden hope.
The last petal rests against his glove for a moment, beautiful and delicate, and then there's nothing left at all.
"Zoisite," he says aloud.
He's going to kill them before Venus can get a chance to.
She's going to bring them back to life just so she can kill them herself.
But he's here. He's alive. There's a chance that all of this might not have been for nothing after all.
"Zoisite."