Perhaps...

[ginnezu_notes]

It's a slow thing that creeps upon you before you can realize it is there; soft and almost sensual as it caresses your senses, more than just the quiet sound that surrounds you, less than you might expect of such sure and serene music. You can barely discern it from the background noise of the world, and you can't pinpoint when it might have begun

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[aroyal_pain]

One man, at least, seems entirely unaffected. Prince Endymion of Earth, garbed in his formal white uniform, finds himself quite comfortable in Zoisite's presence.

"The piano again?" he asks. The teasing is well-meant; he steps closer and pauses beside the instrument. "I'd like to hear you play some more."

[ginnezu_notes]

Those pale eyes show the deep surprise at the sight that greets them, for he knows it to be impossible... The Master, in all the glory that still shines in his memories, stands there as if no time has passed, as if his own music has turned and twisted, taking him back to a time that is long since passed and gone. There is a moment, where his thoughts turn to the possibility that, perhaps, he has gone mad... but the vision does not fade when he blinks slowly, but in fact moves closer, and speaks.

"Master..."

[aroyal_pain]

"You look like you've seen a ghost." But he is no ghost; he is Endymion, flesh and blood, and he has never been anyone else. The prince quirks a bemused smile at his devoted guardian. Endymion glances to the piano, but it's obvious even music has been set aside for their meeting, for now.

[ginnezu_notes]

"Master Endymion..." The voice is soft, smooth enough that only a trained ear may pick up on the shock, the disbelief laced within it, for if a ghost is what stands before him, it is more understandable than any other thought that may come to mind. When last he had laid eyes upon this man...

"Master... You have awakened...?"

[earthvictorious]

This, he does not want: the flash of a royal prince, the flash of those empty eyes and their empty bodies, the flash of the white of Zoisite's uniform fading to the white of broken pillars and statues.

Kunzite takes three strides to the piano. He pauses there before he smashes his fist down on the keys to break the song into fragments, a discordant jumble of noise. His eyes flash only anger.

[ginnezu_notes]

The look he turns upon the man he would have followed to the ends of the earth, indeed the man whom his last moments were spent supporting so long, long ago in memories that sing softly of the past within his mind, is knowing. It is accepting and calm, expectant. Anger does not surprise him. This man... There has always been passion within him, and that passion pushes him to the highest heights, the deepest lows, and it is bound to escape no matter the discipline. In fact... that anger is crucial, and the grey eyes that turn to him know that. That anger can be used.

"Kunzite."

[earthvictorious]

Any feeling he's ever had has been denied, cut off, discarded, and finally faded to nothing - he'd like to tell himself, and he'd like to believe. With the music stopped, Kunzite's fist stays wedged against the keys for a final, long moment while he composes himself before abruptly lifting his hand away.

"Don't play that filthy song," he warns.

[ginnezu_notes]

He does not answer immediately, instead his gaze taking in the sight of the man before him, examining, critical, seeking what changes this new life, this second birth, has wrought, for he knows already that none of them remain the same as that life. He has seen it with his own eyes, in the memories that remain from that dark control he was under. Kunzite, it seems, neither is untouched. He expected no differently.

"The shitennou must remember."

[ginnezu_notes]

And it is not, indeed, how it is. There will be no such utterances from this man, if the music has not proven that, for it is music that will make that pitiful woman quiver. It is music that will lay claim to those she has deceived, those she has ensnared, and it will free them forever. It is music that will, with time, ensure that the past is never so truly forgotten as she would have it. So it is that when that music dies, for the moment only, and those pale eyes turn to the man who has appeared, the look within them is measuring.

"Kunzite."

[ginnezu_notes]

Ensnared he has been; ensnared shall he ne'er be again. Freedom has come to this man, drawn from a single touch of his master's hand and earned through battle, and reprieve. What it has taken to have that freedom... He can only hope that that time was not misspent, and that it is not too late, as his seeking eyes find those of a man he once called leader and friend; shall he use such terms once more, in this new life, or have they been lost to the time he paid for his freedom? Time may yet tell.

"Do you remember, Kunzite?"

[ginnezu_notes]

His presence is yet noted, for even should he make no more, no sound, his presence is enough to disrupt that flow of melody out to the world beyond. The music must move around that form, to reach those it seeks, and that is enough that when those eyes open, they are trained on that identical form, as if there had been no doubt of where he was. If there is surprise in those eyes... it does not show. How can he be surprised to see such a familiar sight, one that he knows so very, very well. No, there is no surprise, only a wariness that lies in the tightened corners of his lips, and the slightest furrow of his brow.

"You are..."

[ginnezu_notes]

The truth may not be denied, and he would not think to even if it could. His goal now is truth, to reveal it to those who may not see, to those who deny, and so he will not allow such futile thoughts within his mind. So he accepts the truth that his senses lead him to. It is not the who that must now be ascertained, but the how, and perhaps... the reason.

"How has this come to be?"

[loves_la_vie]

She already remembers these things, already remembers the past and destiny she was chained to for so long. Minako, Venus, comes to pause beside Zoisite's piano as she has so often in that distant past. The sound is a soothing whisper now, a relieved murmur speaking of the end averted.

She does nothing to disturb the music; instead, she lightly lays a hand on the piano frame to feel the vibrations at the same time she hears the notes. He is still thinking of the past.

[ginnezu_notes]

He thinks of the past still because it is what makes him different, it is what keeps his mind focused, free of the influence of the witch who has revived all of them in this life, it is what keeps him able to follow the binding oaths he has rediscovered. The past... he will never let it fade. He will only bring it forth, once more, for those who yet have not received the word.

Those eyes do not flinch at the sight of her. If anything, the response she receives is a faster flight of his fingers, the music resounding with its message, an urgency that echoes from deep within his soul.

"Venus."

[loves_la_vie]

This is the nexus; and that's why she's Venus. She can't have that life of her own, that true self she finally rediscovered after so long, when there are still battles, when there is still the need for a leader, when even her own world might be threatened again and the others don't have their powers. This is her burden and fate alone.

This is the nexus, and that's why Zoisite's here. As a friend, or as a foe? His attitude and demeanor give her confidence it's the former.

"Zoisite..." They should be able to get past names, shouldn't they? They should be able to move on to something else, two people who've shared as much together as they have. "What is it?" The words are concerned, perhaps even ready to offer her help.