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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"Kunzite."
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"Do you remember, Kunzite?"
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"You remember..." The question that the music begs, that remains unspoken, is how those memories have changed him.
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