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[Kunzite Blackwell]

Since being brought back by Chaos, Kunzite had rarely had enough time which he could use entirely for himself. Oddly enough, though the hardships of their mission had just begun, he found himself with a few spare hours – none of the shitennou was in town, so he needn't be around, nor was he given any other mission. It was the perfect time to do something that he had been thinking about pretty much since the moment when he found himself revived, with all of his memories intact. Without as much as a word to anyone, not even Zoisize – or better said, specially to Zoisite, he focused all of his energy and opened up a portal. Taking a deep breath, the silver-haired general closed his eyes as he stepped forward through the portal. The shift in energy and the change of the atmosphere indicated him when he reached his destination, but he dared not open his eyes just yet, although he knew he'd have to, if he wanted to go forward with his decision of facing his past.

Instinctively, his left hand moved to the handle of his sword, his fingers wrapping around it into a nervous grip. Another deep breath and he started to open his eyes. The sight he was met with made him feel as though a dagger had just run through his heart. In front of him laid the ruins of the befallen Moon Kingdom. Inside his mind, still so fresh and vivid, laid memories of the times when the kingdom was glorious, of the splendor and elegance of the world forbidden to the inhabitants of Earth. And between the two, between past and present, laid him, Kunzite, not as the proud leader of the Four Heavenly Kings, guardians to the Prince of the Terran Kingdom, but as the traitor he had been.

Slowly, Kunzite advanced towards the palace, fighting to keep his usual calm and stoic expression, even if he was alone. He knew that if he'd allow himself one second of weakness, he would break down and cry like he couldn't remember ever doing before. It was hard to see the consequences of his actions. The events of that tragic night kept replaying themselves in his mind. How many innocent people have died out of his orders? How many innocent lives had his own sword taken? For how many of these ruins was he responsible? The screams... the terror... the blood... And him, in front of the treacherous Terran army, rejoicing the destruction that occurred because of love.

It didn't take long before Kunzite found himself standing in front of a familiar door, one through which he had sneaked in on numerous occasions. His hand moved hesitantly to open it. His motions were slow and he held his breath. This was going to be, by far, the worst sight he would be met with – the last place he'd seen that night: Aphrodite's room. As soon as he walked in, his eyes were instantly drawn to the stain of blood, still visible on the floor even after so many years. Kunzite stopped next to it, the place where everything ended. He closed his eyes, his grip tightening on his sword. A sword similar to this one had been driven through Aphrodite's chest. His other hand moved to his chest, above the spot through which her own sword had pierced his chest, claiming his life in tow. The scar remained fresh in his mind – the one on his body had not survived reincarnations and revivals. This visit had been much needed, he couldn't allow himself to forget what he really was: a criminal. His free hand moved from his chest to his pocket, pulling out a white rose. Opening his eyes again, he knelt and placed the flower onto the stain. He remained silent, gazing at the flower, trying hard to hold back his remorseful tears.

[Aphrodite S'Ayapo]

she won't turn around, the shadows are long
and she fears if she cries that first tear
the tears will not stop raining down
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Of all the inner senshi, it was clearly Aphrodite who clung most tightly to her past. After all, she was the most haunted by her past decisions and actions. None of the others had seen horrors like hers, committed atrocities like hers that would fill their every thought for the rest of their lives. They didn't understand what it was like to live with the knowledge that you'd driven a steel blade through the heart of the only man who had ever loved you, ending his life as he had yours. And even if on paper she'd been righteous in her actions, slaying one of the main sources of the destruction that had torn apart the delicate celestial balance for what was beginning to seem like eternity, Aphrodite knew deep down that what she'd done was unforgivable, inexcusable. She'd chosen her duty over her heart, had turned her back on her people and their ways in a futile effort to save her princess from the chaos swirling around the palace that night. To this day, her heart clenched and her eyes brimmed if she allowed herself to reflect on that night for even a second. Sometimes it was enough to prevent her from getting out of bed entirely, and she would cry herself to sleep behind locked doors more nights than anyone realized. Because who would assume that the bright, lovable and generally upbeat Aphrodite was harboring a secret so dark that it was destroying her from the inside? No one, that's who; her charade was too complete, the illusion too perfect, that no one but the Queen (and at that only on one occasion) had seen her tears in years. And that was how she liked it. It wasn't their cross to bear, not their burden to shoulder - after all, none of them had killed the loves of their lives. They'd fought for their lives, sure, but kill? None of them had summoned the strength for it...all save for her. Artemis insisted that it was 'courage' like that which made her such a good leader for the inner senshi, but sometimes when Aphrodite looked in the mirror all she could see was a heartless monster. Harsh? Maybe a little. But when you're the princess of Venus, the daughter of love and beauty incarnate, it is the highest crime of the land to deny your heart's longings. And to kill the object of your affections, to not only end a beautiful and unique life so treasured by every inhabitant of her home planet, but the one of the person you swore to cherish, honor and love above all others? It was disgusting.

Aphrodite made a point of coming to the ruins at least once a week, to serve as a stark reminder of her past crimes and the trials still in front of her and her friends. The cosmic unrest had not subsided, something was still terribly wrong. The King had taken off, god knows why, and the scans occasionally displayed unexplained blips or surges of...something. It just about killed her, really, not knowing. How do you fight what you can't see? How do you protect against something you don't understand? It was enough to make her head spin, so coming back to her childhood home eased her worried mind. At least for a little while. Fighting the shivers she always got when she stepped foot on that hollowed ground, Aphrodite strode carefully into the rapidly deteriorating building. Her eyes swept across the familiar shattered marble floor of the entryway, which was littered with cracked crystal from the chandeliers, and on to the horribly disfigured golden banister attached to the stairs. Steadying her breathing, she carefully stepped around the debris and made her way up to the second floor, and down the ripped thick white carpet stained with soot and blood. She tried not to reflect on how many guards had lost their lives over those pools of blood, how many good people had died in the vain attempts to save the palace and those who lived in it. Besides, there was only one pool of blood that had any effect on her anymore - and that's what she'd come here to see. The clicking of her heels silenced by the carpet, Aphrodite took the familiar pathway down the long corridor until she reached it. Her bedroom. Her eyes narrowed at the door when she reached it, finding it slightly ajar. She distinctly remembered closing it behind her on her last visit, leaving this disturbance unexplained. Ever cautious, the Venusian princess...excuse me, the new Venusian Queen, slowly pushed open the door, watching and waiting for something or someone to jump out at her. As the door creaked to its full extent, and feeling no danger, Aphrodite herself slowly entered the room. Her heels announced her arrival the minute the landed on the smooth marble of the entryway, and she was about to relinquish her sense of anticipation and go about her buisness when she saw him. That hair, that posture, the sword at his hip. One hand flying to her mouth just in time, Aphrodite muffled her own scream of horror, a cry so forceful it sent her reeling back a few steps until she was leaning heavily on the wall behind her, whose peeling wallpaper crackled beneath the new touch. Tears already racing down her face, Aphrodite's wide eyes zoned on where he was kneeling - the pool of blood. So distracted by the fact that she was sure she was seeing a ghost, she didn't even take in the white rose, and immediately began to shake her head in disbelief. "No, please no...you're not real, you're not here. I-I-I know I deserve the punishment for what I've done to you, I know. And I'm so sorry just...please, please stop haunting me. I see your face everyday in the new kingdom, is that not enough for you? Why does your ghost need to be here too?!" she demanded of him, pleading for what she thought was an apparition to leave her in peace. You see, Aphrodite had no idea that Kunzite had been revived. And seeing him here, before her once more in the place where she'd... it was almost too much. Her cheeks stinging from the salt in her tears, Aphrodite wiped furiously at her eyes and bowed her head, her sobs escaping pursed lips every so often.
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POST STATUS: finished
TEMPLATE CREDIT TO: sydknee says!
LYRICS CREDIT TO: Superchick
ROLEPLAYING WITH: Kunzite
LOOKING LIKE: this right here
NOTES: d'awww, so sad

[Kunzite Blackwell]

Though Kunzite forced himself to keep his gaze transfixed on the flower, it was impossible to avoid the red hue of dry blood surrounding it. Inside his imagination, time was turning back, the stain turning back into a pool of blood of crimson red, drowning the rose and staining its pure white petals, just like their love had been stained by treason and cold-blooded murder. For the hundredth, or maybe thousandth of time since he was brought back by the mercy of Chaos, he was reliving the scene of the most dreadful deed he had done in his entire existence. Not even his treason or the fact that he laughed at seeing Endymion die were nearly as horrible as the fact that he had cold-bloodedly impaled the love of his life on a sword. Nothing, not even a millennium of enduring the worst tortures imaginable, would ever be enough as to punish him for his crime. They both had been so fortunate the past time they met each other. He did not remember anything because of Beryl's mind control and surely neither did Aphrodite remember. She never acted as though she would have known that once he had been more than just the Dark Kingdom general that had assaulted the Moon. Now she was no longer going by the identity of Aino Minako, but by the true name of the Queen of Venus. It was useless to hope that she would be still blissfully unaware of the tragic truth. The moment will come when he, servant of Chaos, would be revealed to her and he would have to face her hatred for what he'd done to her. It was the only feeling that he deserved to receive from her. Until the moment would come, he would just have to get used to the thought, so he would be able to face her just like they were finding themselves once more: as enemies.

Although he had relived that night so many times, being right in the place where it all happened made the memory be shockingly vivid. Kunzite felt almost as if he could still hear the cries of agony and despair coming from outside the broken windows. He could even feel the pain that followed the moment in which Venus' sword went through his chest. All he could see in front of his eyes was no longer a stain and a flower, but the image of Aphrodite, covered in blood, agonizing in her last moments – those last moments in which a miracle, or maybe Beryl's twisted mind, made it that the spell broke, that he would realize what he had done. Too late to fix anything, too late to even apologize before chocking on his last breath. Kunzite felt his eyes stinging with the tears he refused to shed. Trapped into the memory, he heard not the sound of heels against marble, nor that of old wallpaper crackling. The only sound he did hear, the one he would have recognized in a million, that would have once been enough to make his hear race into his chest, was that of her voice.

His head whipped around, his eyes widening as he saw her, as he heard her speak. Aphrodite was there, that was impossible. Why would she come to this place that bore such tragic memories? He stood up and turned to face her. Her words hurt more than ten swords plunged through his chest. What she'd done to him? She had just killed the enemy, he could never blame her for that. How could she do this to herself, feeling remorse and apologizing for something she had no guilt for? What did she mean by saying that she saw his face each day? She couldn't still... Her words had been enough to shatter all traces of self-control he had left and tears began sliping down his cheeks as Aphrodite bowed her head. He knew that the best thing to do would be to teleport back and let her believe that he had been nothing but a ghost, like she had thought him to be, but he found himself rooted on spot. He couldn't just leave like that. It broke his heart to see her cry like that because of him. Hadn't he caused her enough pain already? Wouldn't it be even worst to make her believe that he was a ghost, only for her to find the truth in a more dire circumstance? Kunzite wiped at his own tears before finding his words to speak. ”Aphrodite... Please, calm down, don't cry... I am not a ghost. I am real, I am back. Don't say those things! You've done nothing to me that I didn't deserve. It's me that has to apologize to you. ”, he softly spoke to her.

[Aphrodite S'Ayapo]

she won't turn around, the shadows are long
and she fears if she cries that first tear
the tears will not stop raining down
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It did not escape Aphrodite's attention that this was the first time the two of them had been back in this room since that fateful night. She too was having intense flashbacks, hearing the commotion outside in the courtyard and the anguished cries as every single one of her friends' lives was extinguished. She could see the shadows of guardsmen running past her doorway, and feel the pounding of their heavy combat boots under her feet as they shook the marble floor. But more than any of that, the most powerful sense she had back was that of smell. She could smell the iron-scented blood in the hallway and on the floor, the faint traces of the cherry blossom trees outside in the gardens. Overpowering all of these scents, filling Aphrodite from head to toe and fueling her state of panic, was death. Yes, in that moment in her bedroom, she'd been able to smell death coming for her. It filled her lungs, clouded her mind and forced her body to react in the most basic of ways - fight, or flight. And being the warrior she was, of course she'd decided to fight for her life. But that hadn't chased the stench out of the atmosphere, it had only strengthened it. It wasn't until she retrieved her memories and truly reflected on that night that she'd realized the smell had gotten stronger because after she'd decided to fight, death had been coming for the both of them. She didn't care what Artemis or Luna or any of the other girls said - it was because of her that Kunzite's destiny had been altered, that death had come for him that night as well. And ever since that revelation, his likeness had haunted her ceaselessly. Sometimes she saw him across from her at the dinner table, other times in the garden while she was on her morning strolls. A few times it had even gotten so bad that she'd seen him in her bedroom, and once she'd seen him in the mirror when she went to get ready for bed. Needless to say it had been difficult to explain to Artemis, who had heard her cry and come running, why her gold-plated Venusian mirror was smashed in a million pieces on the floor and she was curled up in the corner of her bathroom in hysterical tears. But she'd come up with an excuse - not once had Aphrodite, in all the months since the appearances began, told anyone about what she was seeing or asked for help. Because as much as seeing his eyes on her from beyond the grave petrified her, having him appear in front of her from time to time for a moment relieved her grief. For those fleeting seconds, despite her tears and terrified screams, she could pretend that he was still alive, and she hadn't carried out her final mission in that lifetime.

Never once in all the times he'd appeared before her had he spoken. So when she heard his thick voice, laced with emotion and seemingly struggling with every word, Aphrodite's head shot up again. He was standing now, standing directly in front of her, with...were those tears he was swiping at? She raised both hands, despite their shaking violently, to her lips and covered her mouth in shock as he told her he was alive once more. Not that this was something that should have shocked her as much as it did, since it had been her personal experience that weird circumstances revived people all the time - Aphrodite herself was a prime example of that, having died at least three times during this current lifetime, and yet always returning safely to her body. But this time was different; this was Kunzite, who seemingly had all of his memories. He had to, if he knew what the hell she was talking about it and was trying to alleviate her guilt. "No, don't..." she begged, biting her lip so hard she feared it might bleed as her violently shaking hands fell from her mouth to rest calmly at her sides. She didn't know exactly what she was telling him not to do - not to be here, not to apologize to her, not to get involved in her life anymore? She felt like someone had taken a mighty kick to her stomach and knocked the wind out of her; she couldn't breathe, not even a small gasp of air. As her eyes fell back to the floor so she could try to regain her breathing capabilities, she finally noticed the white rose in the middle of the deep red stain. It was fresh, just planted...but it couldn't be. Then again, what was he doing here if he wasn't leaving the rose? Hands still extremely unsteady, Aphrodite reached into the small sewn-in pocket to her dress and produced an identical pink rose, which shook slightly in her grip. She'd had the same idea, to leave a small token here to commemorate the terrible events that had changed the direction of history. Raising her head once more, finally locking eyes with him for longer than a few seconds, Aphrodite felt all her resolve melt. She felt transported in time, back before the incident in a time when she'd been free to act upon the whims of her heart where he was concerned. And even if she knew that things had changed between them, that life was far more complicated now than it had ever been, she didn't care. Pushing herself off the wall, she crossed the room to his side in a few quick strides and immediately wrapped her arms around his neck, crying into his shoulder as her tired fingers slowly let the pink rose slip from her grasp. It landed on top of his white one, intertwining petals in the stain on the floor. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry...I never meant to....I didn't want to...Please forgive me." she begged over and over, her grip tightening with every new sob that broke through her defenses.
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POST STATUS: finished
TEMPLATE CREDIT TO: sydknee says!
LYRICS CREDIT TO: Superchick
ROLEPLAYING WITH: Kunzite
LOOKING LIKE: this right here
NOTES: d'awww, so sad

[Kunzite Blackwell]

Kunzite had always managed to take a bit of comfort in the idea that when he'd see Aphrodite again, it would happen in the middle of a battle. In a way he would have found it easier to see her as Sailor Venus, if she'd be just the senshi doing her duty to protect the innocent and to protect the new kingdom. That would have given him the strength to remember that his duty was all that mattered and that he had to leave the past completely aside. He had hoped that if things would happen that way, he would find that the feelings that still lingered deep in his heart only had to do with his memories. Did it have to do with the fact that Aphrodite looked more beautiful than ever? Was it because of the place they found themselves in? Or was it just that he was finally willing to accept the obvious truth that he was trying to deny? He still loved her. It didn't have to do with just a memory, it was love. It was impossible, now he loved Zoisite, he truly did. Yet, at the same time, he was finding that he still loved Aphrodite as well. How could this be? He had been convinced that the only one that had a place in his heart was Zoisite. Yet Aphrodite was more present in there than he had been willing to accept. It was... a disaster to say the least. None of them would ever have to know about this, specially not Zoisite. If he hated her so much just because she had brought him to close to death, he couldn't dare to imagine how his current lover would feel should he ever know about his resurfaced feelings. It was safe to presume that he'd be affected enough to know about his visit to the ruins.

To see Aphrodite so shocked was making hard for Kunzite to struggle not to shed more than just those few tears. The thought that he was still causing her so much pain was unbearable. When would be the best time to leave? She suffered enough with the idea that he was back, why torment her more by staying and let things get to point where she'd find out that they're enemies again? Although, probably his uniform had already been a sure indication that he still belonged to the Dark Kingdom in loyalty. He locked his silver eyes with her blue ones, but the moment he heard her beg him not to, he lowered his gaze. Just then he realized that his left hand was resting on his sword again and he let it fall to his side, feeling even more guilty. She probably imagined that he was going to do it again, that he would attack her in the same room and kill her in the same spot. Kunzite wished to speak and assure her that he would not be killing her again. Lifting his gaze again, he saw her trembling hands reach into her pocket. He could only imagine that she'd be pulling out her henshin stick and fight him to defend herself. To his surprise, she pulled out a rose, a pink one. He kept his gaze locked with hers as she came towards him, remaining perfectly still as he found himself embraced, just like a statue of ice. Only when he heard her voice one more time, did he melt, wrapping one arm around her, the other caressing her blonde tresses in an attempt to calm her down. ”You only did was right. It was your duty”, he assured her. ”I have forgiven you. I am the one that needs to beg for forgiveness. I am sorry for having betrayed the love that bound us.”