Resonating Light Chapter 11

Title: Resonating Light
Chapter: 11
Series: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon
Rating: Currently PG-13 for some bad language and violence.
Summary: Pseudo-AU.  At a decisive moment in battle, Kunzite chooses to take a very different path.  Now he must do all that he can to save the person who he was born to protect.
Warnings: Future shounen ai warning.  Do not read if you dislike homosexual pairings.  Also, somewhat unedited.  Beware.



Four days, five nights.  That was how long it had been since that dark night when he had woken up to find all of Tokyo in a blackout, and a great ball of light at the top of Tokyo Tower dwarfing the shimmering river of stars above.  That was the night that everything had changed, when his very idea of himself was altered.  It was when his searching ended.

The ball of light, he knew now, had been Kunzite's.  Glowing in white radiance beneath the sliver of the moon in order to draw the senshi to himself.  But though Mamoru was aware of what Kunzite's intentions had been back then, it seemed to him now that that light had been calling him all along, drawing him here to this place where he had a past, a guardian, and... a princess.

It was Kunzite's light that had drawn him that night, like a moth to a flame.  But it was her voice that had woken him up in the first place.  Her voice, like sunlight shimmering on water, bright and energizing and full of optimism.  It could make him believe things--that he was stronger, that the world was safer, that he was not alone.  It sang promises of the future, of battles won and sins forgiven.  It glowed with a warm radiance that seeped inside him and settled, smoldering like a like an ember at his core. 

It was the same voice that had awoken him this morning.  Like a whisper echoing inside his ears.  So quiet, and yet so wonderfully real, that for a moment he had expected to open his eyes and find her right there next to him, golden pigtails that glowed in the morning light framing her face and blue eyes dancing with childlike joy.  "I'm so glad I found you," she would say through that simper of hers, simultaneously the schoolgirl who he loved to run into on the street and the princess who he just plain loved. 

But when he had opened his eyes, he found himself alone in the room, and he knew that what he had heard was not with his ears.  It had been purer even than her real voice, the one that shouted at him and scolded him and squealed his name with joy.  It was her inner voice he had heard, calling him because somewhere, on the other side of Tokyo, his princess missed him.

He knew how worried she must be for him, and it was not without a pang of guilt that he thought of how she must be concerned for his very life, and here he had been perfectly safe all this time, even enjoying himself, with his newfound guardian.  Of course he missed her as well.  Oh, how he missed her.  Her laugh, her warmth, her off-key humming.  He wanted so much to simply talk to her, to let her know that he was alright.  To see that she was too.

But Kunzite was adamant about their remaining hidden.  He had explained to Mamoru--repeatedly--how important it was to prevent anyone from becoming aware of their whereabouts.  Because the sailor senshi were not even sure if Mamoru was still alive, it would remain obvious to Beryl every time she attacked them that they had not had any contact with him.  They would demonstrate it with their demands, with their worried faces and frantic gestures.  Mamoru hated it, using the pain of his Usako and her friends to their advantage.  Kunzite did not seem particularly excited by the notion, either, but reassured him that it was the best thing for everyone right now.  As long as Beryl did not think she could gain information through the senshi, she would be less likely to try and use them for that very purpose. 

It did not make things any easier, sitting here in this dark place.  Wondering what was happening outside.  Wondering if Usako was alright, if she was hurt--physically or emotionally.  While he was hiding, she was out fighting battles, struggling against the enemy that threatened to overtake them all.  She was doing it without him, without his support and his protection, and it killed him to think that every danger he now hid from was one she stood firm against, a speck of light holding strong within a sea of darkness.

Kunzite had told him, also repeatedly, that she was quite unharmed at the moment, but as much as Mamoru trusted his guardian, he had a difficult time placing complete faith in these simple words.  If only he could -see- her, look upon her cheerful face, touch her long slender fingers, then maybe he would have an easier time believing it.  But he had nothing to go on, nothing at all, except Kunzite's word.

He sighed against the windowpane, producing a puff of steam that formed on the glass before gradually fading again.  He sat on the faded wood floor, his arms resting on the narrow windowsill, as he stared out at the clouded sky above, as though it would offer to him from the white expanse some answer to his questions.  Kunzite was out getting food, and Mamoru wished for what seemed to be the hundredth time that he could have gone with him.

It was not that he did not enjoy it here, with Kunzite.  He loved being with him, loved their conversations together, loved the way he felt so secure when his guardian was near, loved the crisp smell of snow in his hair and the way his warrior's hands turned soft when they touched Mamoru's.  But he loved being with Usako, too, and he missed the way the sunlight glowed in her pigtails and the way she snorted when she laughed.  It was a longing that tugged so fervently at his chest that it tore and hurt, but it was a new kind of hurt to Mamoru because there were so few times in his life when he had loved someone so much that it pained him to be away from them.  And yet now he found himself with two people latched onto that place in his heart where pain was felt most keenly, and he almost did not know what to do with himself.  Was it possible to find room in your heart to fit two people who meant all the world to you?  Would his chest, atrophied from carrying so little for so long, burst from the pressure, as it sometimes felt like it would?  What if he adjusted the inner-heart classifications slightly--moved them both out of the "person I love very much" column into a more specific category, would that free up some space?  Usako could be "girl I enjoy running into on the street, fantasy who inhabits my dreams, and former princess who used to make eyes at me."  He rather hoped to upgrade that long title to "girlfriend," but that change would be pending until he could actually discuss the matter with her.  Kunzite could be "best friend," (he liked the sound of that phrase, "best friend," the way it sounded so official) "confidant, long-lost head guardian and protector of my sorry ass."  That was kind of a long title, too, but he was not sure whether there was a word to describe all that. 

But regardless of categories, they were still both in there, warm lights in his chest that never competed but rather shared their glow, built it up between them with shimmering synergy, until they were all that he could hold.  Could he feel guilty for missing one while he was so happy with the other?  And which was he guilty for--the part where he missed or the part where he was happy?

Footsteps on the stairs interrupted his thoughts.  Kunzite was back.

The white-haired guardian appeared in the doorway, carrying their food as he always did.  Mamoru welcomed the sight of him, gratefully took in his guardian's face, but he did not move from where he was by the window.  Kunzite's eyes lingered on Mamoru, in a way that made the black-haired prince feel that he had sensed immediately what he was thinking of.

"Anything interesting outside that window?"

"A whole lot of sky.  And occasionally a bird."

"Well at least we can be assured that it's a valuable entertainment source."  He crossed over to Mamoru and put the food aside, greeting him with a one-armed hug around his shoulders and a nudge against his face, like he intended to kiss his forehead but never quite did.  Mamoru leaned into the embrace but did not completely return it, his thoughts of the morning somehow holding him back.

"You miss her, don't you?"  Kunzite sat down next to him, saying quite plainly exactly what had been bothering his Prince.

Mamoru laughed, running his hand through his thick black hair.  "How could you tell?"

"Because few things in life make you quite so morose as her, and I've watched you pine over that Princess enough to recognize the signs."

The Prince nodded, smiling slightly at Kunzite's ability to guess at his thoughts.  "I just... I'm worried about her.  It's been so long.  I know she has her own guardians with her, but... I still feel like I should be there, too."

Kunzite smiled ruefully.  "I envy her guardians, able to divide the work between them.  I doubt they lose nearly as much sleep as I do."

"Oh, are you overworked?"  Mamoru raised an eyebrow.  "It certainly was not me who asked you to stay up every night.  I distinctly remember telling you to go to bed last night."

"And what kind of guardian would I be if I slept all the time?"

"A well-rested one.  And if we're attacked and you fall asleep mid-battle, I reserve the right to say 'I told you so.'"

"Dually noted.  But my sentiment still stands.  She's more closely protected right now than you are, and I hope I don't have to remind you that you are just as much in need of protection as she is."

"So you've told me.  But that doesn't change the fact that I'm concerned.  I don't even know what's going on."

The white-haired guardian nodded, his eyes clouding over in thought.  Mamoru found himself wishing, not for the first time, that he could read Kunzite as easily as Kunzite read him.  So often, he simply closed up on Mamoru, as though a curtain had dropped between them without warning.  What particularly bothered him about it was the nagging feeling that it had not always been like this, that he used to be able to understand Kunzite easily.  Maybe he just needed time to re-learn everything about the white-haired man.

"Alright, then," Kunzite muttered, pushing the food aside and resituating himself on the floor.

"What are we doing?"

"We'll eat later.  I should have taught you this days ago, anyway, but I wasn't sure how receptive you'd be.  I'm going to show you a few tricks to use with your powers.  This is all basic stuff that you're probably partially familiar with already, but in your old life you would have been taught this when you were a child."

"I'm glad to know I'm so far behind."

"Give your present self a little credit.  In the past you received training on a daily basis.  There are not many people who could have worked out as much as you know now without any guidance."

"I don't really know much of anything, though."

Kunzite gave him a knowing smile.  "Pulling those memories out of me?  Slipping past my defences without my noticing?  There are very few people who I allow access to my mind, Prince, and even fewer who can gain access against my will.  The only reason your efforts backfired is because you were not expecting your own memories to echo what you saw.  Given the kind of skill you've shown, this should be easy for you."

"What, exactly, am I learning?"

Kunzite took the prince's hand, and clasped it against his, palm to palm, fingers splayed between each other.  "How to use your sense of touch."  Mamoru watched their hands, outstretched between them, his guardian's face hovering just beyond, silver eyes gazing back at him.  He was not entirely sure where this was going.  "Now, tell me what you feel."

"...Your hand," Mamoru answered, feeling slightly ridiculous.

"No shit, my hand.  I think you can try a little harder than that."

"I'm not really sure what kind of answer you're looking for," he answered dumbly.

"No, I think you know exactly what kind of answer I'm looking for.  You're just afraid that you'll sound foolish if you say it.

Mamoru swallowed, not enjoying being put on the spot like this.  This was not something he normally discussed, and putting it into words...

"Now, just close your eyes and describe to me what it is you feel.  Don't concern yourself with my hand; its only purpose is to channel what you're really looking for."

Mamoru did as he was told, feeling uncomfortable and unsure of himself until Kunzite's hand tightened in a reassuring squeeze, reminding him that he was safe with his guardian, that he did not have to hide anything from him.  With some amount of effort, he confessed what flowed through his mind when his hand met his guardian's.  "I feel... darkness.  And cold.  But it's not like the darkness of the Dark Kingdom.  It's like... deep underwater where there's no light and no warmth but still... life.  But, no, I guess there are lights, like tiny stars, but you can't always sense them.  And it shifts like there's currents, even though... some spots have frozen over, and..." he opened his eyes.  "And I'm not making any sense, am I?"

Kunzite nodded with approval.  "Actually, you're making perfect sense.  You've just described to me the sort of energy my inner being gives off.  Sort of what you would call an aura or even a soul.  You're not the first person to use the ice metaphor with me, though I will say, Prince, that you're the only one who ever describes me as having stars in my soul."

"I guess I"m just special that way."

The white-haired man smiled, moving on.  "You'll notice how even though you were receiving this information by touch, your mind translated it into other senses, as well.  You could see light and darkness, and yet feel the cold.  I do hope you managed to get something for smell, taste, and sound, as well?"

Mamoru nodded.  He had heard something like water churning in a hollow place, and what he thought were great chunks of ice scraping against each other, but could have also been a blade sharpening.  And somewhere, hidden beneath these, a sound known only to those who thought to listen for it--the muffled shush of snowflakes falling.  He had also both tasted and smelled something like mint, but while his olfactory senses were filled with the scents of leather and snow, his sense of taste had also picked up on something metallic, and also something sweet that lingered on his tongue.

"Good.  You've picked up on quite a bit; I'm sure much of this has been observed over the past few days, and so what we're doing right now is already familiar to you.  That is one important aspect of what we're doing--familiarity.  The more that you are with a person, the more you notice of their habits, their moods, their personal quirks, and so on.  The same rule applies here, in a very similar way.  You remember how I was able to recognize you on the street?  It's no coincidence that I was able to track you down.  You have powers, just as the sailor senshi do, that protect your identity, and it makes the aura you give off change slightly, as well.  Anyone who did not know you as thoroughly as I do would have had much greater difficulty in identifying you.

"So what we're doing here is nothing more than simple memory work.  Learning the unique aura of a person and committing as much of it to memory as possible for future reference.  In time, this will become an automatic reaction for you, if it has not already.  Just like a fingerprint, every person's aura is distinct, but unlike a fingerprint, it can evolve over time--or rather it grows.  Human experience has a way of building upon a person's core.  At the risk of sounding sentimental, everything that you experience, you continue to carry with you.  This is why, for example, Beryl was not able to find you or the Princess--you had had an entire new lifetime in which to build up new experiences, and she never knew you intimately to begin with.  On the other hand, I had spent a few days with you before I had to apply this ability in tracking you down, and was able to distinguish the changes made.  This all clear to you?"

"Vaguely."  Mamoru tried to figure out how all this stuff about auras and cores fit in with his anatomy textbooks.  "I think I understand most of your meaning, though."

"Well enough, I suppose.  There is only so much about this that can be explained; for the most part, you're just going to have to figure it out through experience.  Now, let's put this into practise, shall we?"  Kunzite thought for a second, as though he had not quite considered what "practise" entailed, but quickly came back into focus.  "Give me your stones."

Mamoru pulled the three stones containing his remaining Shitennou out of his pocket, where he had been carrying them.  "Is it okay to use them?"

"I think they'd be glad to be involved in this lesson."  He accepted the three gemstones, selected one from his hand, and gently laid the other two beside him.  "We'll start with Zoisite, since he's the easiest."

"Why is Zoisite the easiest?"

"The other two are two kinds of jade.  Distinct, but with a few similarities.  You can imagine how that would extend to the rest of them, as well.  Zoisite's a very unique individual; you'd be hard-pressed to find anyone remotely like him."  He handed the translucent blue stone back to Mamoru.  It shimmered as it passed from one hand to the other.  "Do with him what you did with me.  Memorize as much as you can about him.  And this time, I won't give you very much time to do so."

Mamoru obeyed, reaching out with his senses to the shining blue mineral cupped in his hand.  Immediately he was engulfed by sensations that were both vivid and contradictory: fire that did not burn, flowers that bloomed like flames, the smell of trampled grass and light glaring off water, heat and cold that churned and brought goosebumps, a rustle that may have been leaves or feathers, and...

"Time's up."  The stone was snatched from his hand before he could regain himself, and Mamoru snapped awake.  He watched Kunzite expectantly, wondering whether he would have to again recite the sensations that the small piece of Zoisite created.

Instead, he picked Nephrite up with his other hand, pulled both behind his back, then placed both his hands before Mamoru, each closed in a fist that hid the contents within.  "Now, tell me which hand has Zoisite."

The black-haired man eyed the two sets of knuckles before him.  "This is a guessing game?"

"I said nothing about guessing.  I want you to know, without a doubt, exactly where he is."

The game was as simple as it sounded, and where at first Mamoru showed reluctance, he gradually became more confident in his choices.  Even when Kunzite used all three gemstones.  Even when he no longer told him which to look for, but instead had him name who was in each hand.  Even when he requested a stone that was, in fact, sitting on the floor behind him.  The game became easy, relaxed, and soon Mamoru was answering without a thought.

"Now," Kunzite said, as yet another round finished with success, "even though physical contact is the easiest means of gaining this information, you've been able to sense these things without directly touching them.  Because of your close proximity to them, you can still sense them without any contact.  This is essential because, obviously, you will not always be able to put your hand on a person to find out about them.  However, over longer distances this becomes more difficult, to the point that a solid conductor must be used.  This," the white-haired man stated, placing his hand on the floor, "is your greatest asset.  The ground beneath you is an excellent conductor, it is always available, and the person you are trying to read will very likely be standing on it, offering up his or her information to you without any knowledge of the fact.  You can use it to sense whether there are people in the immediate area, to track someone, or in the case of what you hope to do, check on the wellbeing of a person who is far away."

Mamoru felt his heart leap upon hearing those words.  He could check on Usako...

"Ideally, it would be best to do this outside where you could have direct contact with the soil, but we're just going to have to work through the foundation of this building.  At least once this is through, you'll be able to do it anywhere, regardless of what's beneath you.  For now, I want you to just put your hand on the floor and feel your way down.  Don't rush yourself; just get used to the sensation."

"How, exactly, do I 'feel my way down'?"

"You'll figure it out, I'm sure."

Not overly reassured, Mamoru placed his hand on the wood beside him and concentrated on drawing information out of it the same way that he had been doing with his Shitennou.

A great, unknown force rose to meet him, the floor beneath him suddenly becoming some alien thing with a will of its own, shifting beneath him, uttering a deep distant groan that encompassed layers upon layers of a thousand voices at once.  Though he saw nothing, he felt something grab him around his wrist, felt it start to tug, down through the floor, through each layer of material beneath him, into a darkness that swallowed him, darkness edged in golden light...

Mamoru pulled his hand back, startled.  He stared at the opposing limb as though he half-expected it to be missing, still swallowed up into the seemingly harmless wood beneath him. 

"Kind of a different experience, isn't it?"  Kunzite asked, thankfully refraining from looking too amused at his prince's reaction.  Mamoru could only imagine what it was like, watching him relearn such elementary techniques for the first time.

"A little bit, yeah," the prince answered dryly.  That was a little -too- different for his liking.

"I could have warned you, I'm sure, but it's better for you to see for yourself.  What you're dealing with, here, is the Earth itself, an entity that is much greater than you or I, and thus it makes its own rules.  But I can assure you that you're quite safe in making these sorts of requests of it.  It has always favored you to begin with."

Mamoru thought that was kind of a strange statement, that the planet 'favored' him, but could think of nothing to say.

"Whereas before, you were the one in control, now what you have is a situation in which you are working -with- the object of your enquiry.  That is not to say that you do not have any choice in what you do--rather, it is important to remember that everything you are able to do is possible because you have permission to do so.  That's something to respect."

This did not seem to be a thrilling prospect to Mamoru, who had a rather strong dislike for not being in control of the situation.  On the other hand, it was pretty difficult to argue with a planet.

"Now, try again, but this time I'll help you out a bit."  Kunzite slid himself across the floor until he was next to Mamoru.  Both were sitting with their legs crossed, and their knees touched between them, a sliver of warm physical contact through two layers of fabric.  The white-haired man took his prince's hand and clasped the back of it, fingers between fingers.  Mamoru could feel the hard calluses of his guardian's palm on his knuckles, the way that his fingers were always just a little bit cold, the way his own rough knuckles scratched against his skin.  "We'll go down together, okay?"

Mamoru nodded.  "Okay."

They pressed their joined hands to the floor, and Mamoru closed his eyes.

With a rush he felt himself being pulled through the floor, felt wood and metal pass him, then concrete, cold and solid but somehow unable to hold him off.  The golden light that hovered at the edges of his senses like a barely-visible mist suddenly exploded in his vision as they left the foundation of the building behind.  Where before he had been growing colder as he descended, somehow he felt suddenly warm--the comforting sort of warmth that came from a blanket sliding around his shoulders.  The light became tolerable, no longer quite so blinding, but now what he felt rather than saw was that the light was rushing past him, a swirling, churning current that moved purposefully past him, through him, as though he were the light itself and he was travelling with it, a tiny spark in a grand expanse of scintillant incandescence.  He was pulled along, drifting through what he could call nothing other than a river that was ablaze with a golden color that he had seen only in his dreams.  It was exhilarating, bordering on euphoric, and he felt, somehow, that he could remain down here, drifting through the luminescent rush for hours, for days, for eternity...

Somewhere, in the place where his physical body still remained, he felt a gentle squeeze around his fingers, and he knew this momentary joy was only the heat of the moment.  Kunzite's presence stirred near him, drawing him out of the swiftest part of the current and, very suddenly, into another one branching off to the side.  Slightly surprised, Mamoru reached out with his senses, feeling out the area beyond them.  What he found was not one single river, but many--hundreds, thousands, all branching off and intertwining with one another, a grand network of shimmering golden streams of various sizes, all on a different course, all flowing in a different direction.  It did not require a great leap for the aspiring medical doctor to see the many flowing rivers as a vast circulatory system, which caused a strange thought to emerge in his mind: they were in the bloodstream of the planet.

Kunzite's presence nudged him again, and he did not so much hear as... understand what he was saying.

//Concentrate on the Princess.//

Mamoru did as he was told, remembering all of those silly little traits about his Usako that he had chalked up to mere sentimentality on his part, and not something that he had actually sensed about her--the smell of sugar and cookies, cold silver moonlight, pink sparkles that flared like fireworks, honey on his tongue, a pure dewdrop on the tip of a flower petal, a pillar of crystal that buckled under nothing...

It became like a beacon to him.  The memories of what made his Usako be Usako seemed to glow in the distance, a white light among gold, calling them forward.

And then she was there.  Surrounded on all sides by thirty-five other souls that were mere shadows in her light.  She sat at a school desk, wearing one of those adorable blue jr. high uniforms, books open and her elbow on her desk.  She was safe.  She was in school.  Doing something so ordinary, so typical, that Mamoru felt the urge to laugh with relief.  But he did not need to have special abilities to see that something was wrong.  She slumped at her desk in a way that made her appear very tired, as though she had not slept at all the night before.  But her eyes showed no weariness--rather they were filled with a dull pain as she gazed at something beyond the classroom.  She was upset, lonely, desperate.

But there she was, in school.  She was still going strong, despite all odds.  She was holding on, continuing to live, regardless of what happened around her.  She was safe, she was healthy, and though she was not happy, he hoped that she would be soon.

A soft tug from Kunzite told him that it was time to go, but he hesitated.  Inside her bag were all sorts of ordinary objects--workbooks and notepads and pencils--but he could sense something else.  Something with traces of himself on it.  He knew, without needing to investigate further, what it would be.  His pocket watch.  The one he had lost the same day he had brought her to his apartment.  She carried it with her...

Kunzite's tugs became more demanding, and finally Mamoru resigned himself to letting the image of his princess disappear once again, and returning to the dim room that was his temporary home. 

Returning to himself was jarring, to say the least.  It felt as though he had tried to rejoin with his body just a little too fast, and had connected with his skull on the way in.  He clutched his head with his free hand, the other one still loosely held in Kunzite's, though he was not objecting.

"You alright?"

"I'll live," Mamoru muttered.  "Though my head might not."

"It'll get easier with time, but the further you go and the longer you stay down there, the more energy you exert.  It can be very taxing.  That is why I did not want you lingering very long."

Mamoru nodded.  All things considered, those few seconds of seeing Usako were worth the excruciating pain in his head.  But that did not dull the ache at all.

Kunzite remained dutifully near him, though Mamoru's eyes remained closed to block out the persistent light.  "Now that I have shown you how to navigate it, you are free to try the same technique at any time.  Clearly, it is important to have a destination in mind--roaming around will not do much for you, and very likely get you lost.  It is also not terribly efficient.  However, getting lost is only a problem in that you lose time and energy in all that wandering.  You will always be able to return to yourself, no matter where you are or how exhausted you have become--you will naturally be pulled back."  The guardian's fingers were warm on his, tightening every once in a while in a gentle squeeze that may have been reassuring or simply affectionate.  "Now that you have learned this part of your powers, you can experiment with it, use it to gain knowledge of others, to sense enemies more quickly, to keep an eye on someone.  It is a subtle ability, but there is great power in the kind of knowledge you can gain from it--far more power than what comes through simply blasting energy at someone."  Mamoru did not realize how close they were sitting.  He was too focused on his headache to notice much of anything.  "Now you understand, I think, the power of touch."

And then it happened.  So soft and brief that he may have been able to pretend that he imagined it, but there was no denying that warmth that lingered on his skin.  It came as a breath on his cheek, and then on the corner of his mouth, light and chaste but undeniably there, the lips of his own guardian pressed against his.

It took him a moment to open his eyes.  It took him another to remember the name for what had just transpired: a kiss.  He looked at the white-haired man, who had released his hand, who was sitting next to him but somehow not as close as before, who regarded him with silver eyes like twin mirrors for a moment before turning away.  "Well, shall we eat?"

Mamoru watched his guardian, his friend, a man who had been brother to him for two lifetimes.  He wished, not for the first time, that he knew what he was thinking.

And he wondered why he felt guilty.




This chapter looked a lot better in my head.  Really.  Does any of that gibberish actually make sense?  I dunno.  But please, if something needs to be explained more clearly or adjusted slightly, let me know.  Because I'm clueless right now.



Past chapters:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10