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The whisper at his ear was so soft he barely registered it before he was pushed down to his knees.
“I really am sorry about this.”
Kunzite’s hand on his shoulder was heavy, and all Endymion could do was twist around to try to look at him, to see—he didn’t know what he wanted to see, just desperate to find something that would explain this madness.
“What are—?” Endymion tried to ask, but found that he stopped despite himself when he saw Kunzite’s face. There was nothing in it he could discern, just dull grey eyes and an expression as blank as a block of stone or a wall of ice. People often compared Kunzite to such, but it had never been true. Even without his powers, Endymion always had been able to see the feelings on his face, although they may have been subtler than most. But, when Endymion tapped into those powers and focused on the feelings he should have been able to sense through the weight of Kunzite’s hand holding him down, it was as if there was simply no one there at all.
He had to turn back to the other Shitennou, to not have to face that horrible non-expression on the visage of his friend, but they looked no better, waiting there on the opposite side of the room Kunzite had led him to, simply watching him.
Zoisite held a rope coiled in his hands, and as he walked towards him Endymion could see a slight downturn to his lips, the only evidence of any sort of feelings on his face. “Would you hold out your hands for me?” he asked as he knelt down in front of him.
Endymion stayed silent. His mind was shouting at him to struggle, scream, do something, anything, but he couldn’t make himself move, frozen under the shock and the oppressive atmosphere of the room, the air of darkness suddenly so thick that it almost felt tangible. Yet the Shitennou didn’t seem to notice.
A harsh bark of laugh came from Nephrite, lounging on a chair across the room, with Jadeite standing stiffly at his side. “The witch’s gotten to him, you know that. He won’t listen.”
“That doesn’t mean I can’t try to make it easier on him,” Zoisite snapped back at him. “If you’re just going to complain, come over here and help me.”
“Alright, alright, I’m coming.”
Zoisite took one of Endymion’s hands in his, breaking him out of his frozen state. He jerked his hand back, and all of the thoughts he’d been wanting to scream poured out in a rush. “What are you doing? Get away from me! What happened to you?” He tried to push himself back, but Kunzite’s hand only tightened its grip, as if he was really made of stone.
Nephrite’s smile held none of its usual humor. “You’re the one we should be asking that to,” he said, “But, we already know.”
Endymion shook his head, trying to free himself from the hold Nephrite suddenly had on his wrist. He couldn’t feel anything from him either. “This isn’t right! You’re not—”
“We’re fine.” Kunzite’s voice was deep, and the weight of his tone, one that he had used to reassure Endymion so many times, sank into his bones. “We’re only concerned for you.”
“Concerned because of what?!”
Nephrite’s grip was gentle, yet unrelentingly firm. He kept Endymion’s hands in place, forcing them behind his back as Zoisite wrapped the ropes around and between them.
Jadeite finally stepped forward, and the look of concern on his face was far more unsettling than a look of anger would have been. “The witch. We never should have let her get so close. If we had been better at our duty, you never would have had to suffer like this.”
There was a sinking feeling in his stomach that he knew who Jadeite meant, but he didn’t want it to be true, didn’t want his friends to have fallen for that lie like so many others had. He had trusted them, known that they were better than that. “What witch are you talking about?” Endymion asked, already knowing the answer.
“Serenity.” The venom in Jadeite’s voice stung, and he watched as his mouth twisted as he said her name, as if the very word tasted of something unpleasant. “That Moon-witch, she did this to you.”
Jadeite had always liked Serenity.
When Kunzite had found them together, that day in the garden, and looked at them with horror on his face, Endymion knew that this wouldn’t be secret from the other Shitennou for long. He trusted Kunzite not to tell anyone else, but he knew he couldn’t keep secrets from them.
And sure enough, they’d talked with him later that day, tried to convince him that he needed to break it off, he couldn’t do this. Zoisite, the hypocrite, had told him in no uncertain terms what an idiot he was being, and Nephrite, the two of them in agreement for once, had warned him that this couldn’t lead to anything good. He’d nearly lost his temper and almost stormed out of the room before Jadeite’s hand on his shoulder made him pause. He told Endymion that they were just worried for him (with a pointed look at the others), and he had defused the situation long enough for them to call a truce.
They had all come around eventually, but Jadeite had always been on his side, so to see him spitting her name as if it were a curse made the reality of the situation finally sink in.
“Serenity hasn’t done anything to me,” Endymion said, though he could tell it was futile even as the words left his lips. “I haven’t even seen her in weeks!”
Jadeite joined Nephrite and Kunzite in holding Endymion still as he tried to wrench his arms from the binds Zoisite put on them. “And yet her spells haven’t faded. But don’t worry, we’ll fix that,” he said with a soft smile.
“You—” Endymion stopped struggling as he tried to process the horrifying implications of Jadeite’s words.
But Jadeite continued, still smiling. “We’re going to kill her, and then you’ll be free.”
The words were almost too simple for their meaning. Endymion didn’t want to believe them; he wanted to wake up and find out that this was all some sort of terrible nightmare. Jadeite hadn’t said that they were going to kill Serenity. He hadn’t. He couldn’t have.
And yet the ropes bit tighter into his wrists the more he struggled, and he knew this was no dream. “You can’t do that!” Endymion yelled, the scream tearing its way out of his throat. “You can’t—not Serenity! This is an order, let me go!” There was nothing he could do to get out of their grasp, not forced onto his knees, bent over with his hands tied behind his back, but he tried anyway.
Kunzite merely sighed. “We’d love to do so, but we can’t obey you when you’ve been so clearly taken over by the witch. We can’t let you stop us, let you betray us and yourself any further, so we must keep you here.”
“I haven’t betrayed anyone!”
“I’m sure you don’t think you have,” Kunzite said, voice as smooth and unbothered by Endymion’s screams as if he hadn’t heard anything at all. “Her spells are subtle. That’s why we didn’t notice until it was too late. Well, almost too late.”
Endymion took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to calm himself. If he could keep them talking, then maybe… “So you’re going to kill her. And you’ve tied me up to prevent me from stopping you.”
“Yes.”
Before he could find a response to the horror of Kunzite’s simple answer, Zoisite had finished with his wrists. “Alright, there we go. Are you comfortable?” Zoisite asked.
“You’ve just told me you’re going to go kill the love of my life, tied me up, and now you’re asking me if I’m comfortable,” Endymion said flatly. “How the hell does this make any sense to you?”
“Well, we’re doing this for you of course,” Zoisite replied, smiling at him. He placed a hand on Endymion’s knee as he spoke, oh so tenderly. “It wouldn’t be worth anything if we couldn’t have you back safe and sound at the end, and why make it more difficult on you than we must?”
“We’re keeping you safe here. No one knows about this room but the royal family and us,” Kunzite said, and it was true. Endymion had recognized where Kunzite was taking him, and there was no way anyone could find him here, no hope of rescue at all. Of course, when this room had been built, he didn’t think anyone expected it to be used as a prison for the one it was meant to protect. “You can stay here until we come back for you, and no one will be able to hurt you. We don’t want you hurt.”
Endymion scoffed. “You tell me you don’t want to hurt me and then say you’re going to kill Serenity, like that won’t hurt me? I love her!”
“That’s only what she made you think,” Nephrite said, releasing his grip and standing up. “You’ll remember the truth soon.”
Jadeite’s hand on his arm tightened for a moment before he, too, let him go. “She stole you from the earth, from us,” he said. “She made you betray us.”
It was obvious nothing Endymion said was getting through to them, but he had to try. “She hasn't—would never do anything like that! I love this planet, nothing could make me betray it, and you, you’re my friends! She hasn’t taken that away from us. I can love her and still serve Earth, one being true doesn’t mean the other isn’t!” He was babbling now, he knew, but he was desperate to make them understand.
They ignored him.
“We never should have let her get this close to him,” Nephrite said, and when Endymion looked up, he could see what looked like genuine pain on his face. Or he would have thought so, if not for the fact he still couldn’t sense anything at all from any of them.
Kunzite shook his head. “It’s my fault. I could have stopped them that day.”
“She already had him in her claws,” Zoisite said with a gentle hand on Kunzite’s shoulder. “What could you have done?”
“I could have killed her then and there.” Kunzite’s voice was vicious, and his face twisted into a snarl. It was an alien expression to see on him, on the always calm and dependable Kunzite.
“You should have. It would have spared us all this trouble, spared him this indignity,” Nephrite said and gestured to where Endymion knelt, looking up at them.
The more he looked at them, the worse they seemed. Something was off, not in any way he could name, but all the same they seemed viscerally wrong. They had his friends’ faces and voices, but nothing else, none of the human warmth or life that always shone in their eyes. They were tied to the Earth, through him, and he could see nothing of that tie in them any more.
Whatever unearthly light was in their eyes, it wasn’t them.
How could he not have noticed? It must have come on suddenly—maybe within the past week, surely he would have noticed if it had been longer.
…When had he last talked to them? He’d spoken to Nephrite in the hall yesterday, yes, but when had he last eaten with them, talked to them for more than a passing moment?
It was… It was… It was just after he’d heard that Jadeite passed out in the gardens.
He’d gone to check on him in the infirmary, but hadn’t spoken to the others afterwards. Had it really been so long?
Whatever this was had been festering inside them for months, and he hadn’t even noticed. Hadn’t even cared to talk to them enough to notice, as lovesick over Serenity’s absence as he was.
Hadn’t he heard that Kunzite had been acting strange lately? Hadn’t he heard that Nephrite had locked himself in the observatory for days?
Why hadn’t he gone to check?
The storm of thoughts in his mind deafened him to the talk between his erstwhile friends, until he felt a hand on his shoulder again.
“We’ll be back soon,” Zoisite said with a smile.
All Endymion could think of was the rumors he’d heard and dismissed out of hand about what Zoisite had done in the past few weeks.
Now, he wasn’t so sure.
“I’m sorry.” The words fell softly from Endymion’s lips. He hadn’t meant to say them.
“What for?” Kunzite asked, turning back to look at Endymion.
His throat was dry, he couldn’t speak.
“It’s no use,” Nephrite said, “His mind’s in her hands now.”
I’m sorry that I failed you.
“We’ll come back and let you out once we’re done.”
I’m sorry that I didn’t see.
“You’ll be safe here.”
I’m sorry that I’m too weak to stop you.
“Wait—” he said, too late.
They were gone.