Burn away the cobwebs

[windunchained]

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[windunchained]

The music stops. Zoisite stays with his hands poised over the piano, one finger still pressing down a key. He glances dispassionately at Kunzite.

"The circus," he confirms.

[windunchained]

"I will send you to where they are," Zoisite offers after an almost-mischievous trill on the piano.

[windunchained]

Zoisite gives a low chuckle, hoarse and creaking. So he makes Kunzite nervous?

"I don't know about them," he says easily enough. Apparently it interests him to meddle with them, though, because he doesn't lose that slight, insolent grin.

[windunchained]

He hasn't involved himself in trying. It hasn't involved him enough to make him want to. He's quite content to stay here, building his own webs from afar to fight theirs. It's quite likely he burned away the webs for no more reason than thinking he'd like to see the city on fire.

Zoisite gives nothing in particular a disinterested look. "It'll be more interesting later," he promises Kunzite.

[windunchained]

That draws a secretive smile out. Zoisite's eyes flit almost furtively towards some spot in thin air, then towards Kunzite. His fingers tap the piano keys, then stop.

"Wait and see," he offers.

[windunchained]

"I have already done this tonight," Zoisite says. He may have simply lost interest. "The next movement comes later." The idle drumming of his fingers at the piano is gone, and he seems thoughtful.

"What shall it be?"

[windunchained]

"I don't know yet," he says casually. And it's the truth; he's acting randomly, erratically, one move before the next but rarely knowing what the next will be. Zoisite still doesn't get up, even with Kunzite here; instead, he stays at the piano, looking at the reflection in its lid.

[windunchained]

Zoisite ends the silence in music rather than words. He plays a simple one-fingered melody that grows into a progression of slow, thoughtless chords.