2706/The One You Want Is Pink

The One You Want Is Pink
Date of Scene:	23 May 2025
Location:	Crystal Tokyo
Synopsis:	In which Malakai Kuroda gets a new job. (After the people from Radiant Heart have left Crystal Tokyo, King Endymion seeks out Malakai to awaken Kunzite.)
Cast of Characters:	Kazuo Saitou, Mamoru Chiba
Tinyplot:	Black Moon Clan
Tinyplot2:	BMC: Dimension Future

---

Kazuo Saitou has posed:
Malakai Kuroda has spent his time in the palace being generally, by default, (a) confused and (b) out of place. Fortunately, neither of these is a foreign state of being to him. He's alternated between a borrowed set of staff work clothes and his (cleaned and mended, by him) own work clothes - those being of a style even older than the Palace, originally monastic and then copied by everyone else once people figured out how practical they were. And he's lent his hand wherever he's seen a need - sorting laundry, cleaning and scrubbing, kitchen scutwork. The refugee population of the Palace being rather higher now, and a lot of them being elderly, having fully functional knees can be very useful indeed.

For the moment, though, they're caught up enough that he's been ordered to take a break. Which leaves him a problem: with everything he's been occupying himself with having been handed over to actual security, and in the absence of chores - right now, he doesn't know what to do.

So he's found a chair in a room where he's reasonably sure his presence won't be somehow offensive, and is just sitting. Looking at his reddened hands. At least the cuts and the light burns are mostly healed by now.

Mamoru Chiba has posed:
The ghost in the doorway looks like he's seen a ghost--

--in his case, that means incredibly relieved.

King Endymion's presence doesn't change the feeling of anything, his attention's been on Malakai the whole time the young man's been there. Granted, in these times the King's attention has been on everything in the palace.

He clears his throat since he doesn't cast a shadow. "Do you have a moment, Kuroda-san?" he asks, and his voice sounds gentle, but also strangely hesitant. "If you do, will you follow me?"

He can't do anything for his hands. He can't do anything for this youth's losses, for his grief, for his ... nearly everything. But confused and out of place? He can do something about that.

Kazuo Saitou has posed:
At the throat-clearing, Malakai raises his head; a moment later he is on his feet, and bowing to the door. "Your Majesty," he says.

(The bow is not as low as the King might have feared one might be. And the formal address is a matter-of-fact thing, not overwhelmed: this is Endymion's job title, he does the job well, the title is warranted.)

And then, simply: "Yes." Presumably to both, as he comes to the doorway, follows the ghostly King if he moves, halts at a politely conversational distance if not. There are no jokes. There are also no questions. Apparently he trusts Endymion not to lead him out over a pit trap, or something.

Mamoru Chiba has posed:
Once more, Endymion's relieved; something fractionally relaxes when there's no fuss about meeting with the guy in charge. He does start walking, and he walks backwards for a second and smiles a tiny smile. "I think I'd rather you walked with me," he says and gestures broadly at the corridor, wide and empty and crystalline, before them.

Then he's walking alongside Malakai, and he says after a moment, matter-of-factly, "We'll take the televator up. Forgive me, I can't remember if anyone's told you anything, so perhaps we'd better take the long way and talk once we get to the castle."

A beat, and he glances sidelong at Malakai as they approach the place in the crystal floor with the indentation, where hundreds of thousands of feet have stood before. "Tell me a little about yourself? About what you do, what you like, what's fun?"

When Malakai steps where indicated, an eyeblink later and the backdrop to looking at Endymion is a different hallway, with marble floors and area rugs, with bright sunlight coming in the windows unobstructed. Also, EARS POPPED. Not horrifyingly, magic blunted a lot of it, but, my my they are high up. A faint shadow of this place is visible from the ground at the tip of the tallest crystal of the palace.

Kazuo Saitou has posed:
There's a tiny quirk at the corner of Malakai's lips, and Endymion has seen it so often that Malakai not saying the words doesn't matter: if that's what you wanted, why did you ask for something else? He lengthens his stride for a moment to meet the King partway. "I've been told a few things," he says, "but most of them revolved around people repeating words with so many potential meanings that they might as well not be said at all. So I may miss cues that one might think should be obvious."

-- and then they are elsewhere, and his swallowing is automatic, not for the sake of the sudden transition. There's perhaps half a second to take it in, and then he's stepping out of the place he appeared, clearing the way on the off chance someone else should somehow come up. There are undoubtedly safeguards. He doesn't want to trust they're fully functional right now.

Exhale. Inhale, a careful breath, and swallow again. "I'm still a student," he says. "Studying toward being able to test for one variant or another of public safety right now. I was in the middle of my first round of de-escalation training when things went to pieces. I like understanding how things work on a general level, how systems interconnect. I like it when I get to teach or show someone how something works, to help them see how the things they want or don't want to happen interact with other systems in ways that might surprise them, sometimes to help figure out how to get what they want without compromising things for other people. I like people-watching, just - seeing normal people get to do normal things. I like climbing. I like art - looking at it, not making it. Same with gardens." He considers for a moment, and then adds, completely deadpan, "I like cats."

Mamoru Chiba has posed:
They don't start walking again until Malakai's got his head back from the grip of the intersection between biology and physics, and when they do, it's slowly. The decor is all antiques, only a few of which are wholly unharmed, the rest restored (or simply repaired, in one very obvious case of a toddler with glue).

"Good," the King says breezily, "there are a lot of cats in this castle. And the rest of the Shitennou are rather like herding cats. Except we haven't found Jadeite yet. But I'm getting ahead of myself--"

There's obviously no one coming up behind Malakai-- and it's as quiet as a tomb up here. Dust motes play in the light with every window they pass. "Good to all of those things. I have..." He pauses his words but continues walking, looking for another way to put it. "I have a job offer for you, whether or not this works. If you'd rather public safety when we're done, that's also fine. But I'm ninety-nine percent certain that you're one of my guardians, reborn. When we get to where we're going, I'm going to ask you to pick up a rock. Picking up the rock may change your perspective completely. You might get the memories of a couple hundred years of being a ghost and also of being the leader of my Shitennou in the time before history. If you don't want to do this-- I personally literally cannot make you do this. I will not, would not, and factually cannot."

Kazuo Saitou has posed:
"I used to help manage a feral cat colony," Malakai says wryly. "I'm going to presume that dealing with people named after gemstones would involve a whole lot less antibiotics."

He quiets to listen to the King, not impatient with the pause. Is quiet further when the King is done speaking, considering. Parsing over the words. "Guardians," he says. "The others used the word 'kingsmen' a lot. That you went to 'guardians' first is a lot less concerning."

Mamoru Chiba has posed:
A wide smile at the note about the cat colony, and an agreeing laugh at the lack of antibiotics-- and then Endymion's expression shifts to one of mild embarrassment. "Kingsmen, really? I guess if that's what they want to call themselves... but when I was a young prince in the time before time, the Shitennou were my knights, commanded my armies when necessary, were my eyes and ears and hands and voice when I couldn't be there. Bodyguards, advisors, best friends, playmates growing up, if they were to be believed."

He looks ahead. "I don't remember, myself. I remember pieces, and feelings, and images, but at this point I don't know what's memory and what's my imagination filling in what they said to me. But I grew up alone in this life, so you can imagine how appealing it sounded."

He looks at Malakai again as they continue walking, turning them around a corner. "The Shitennou had magic like the Senshi. Different magic, Earth magic, and entangled with the Golden Crystal rather than the Silver, but like them anyway. Yours is--"

He catches himself and laughs, then sighs, then reaches up and pulls his mask off, up and over his head, since his is tied. He's a projection, he could just look however he wants. It's probably a sanity saver, pretending things are real. "Kunzite," he says, looking at Malakai, faint translucence and luminance not dissipating the intensity of his dark blue eyes. "His is very good for shielding."

Kazuo Saitou has posed:
"It wasn't them using the word. A couple of the other visitors. It sounded like something they'd used so often, they'd forgotten other people wouldn't know what exactly they meant by it." Malakai doesn't sound overly concerned - but a little more relaxed, yes. As witnessed by his not having used a title for the King since they went very, very far upstairs.

And then, during a pause while Endymion's looking at him: "I went to a foster family when I was three. Got adopted eventually, so it wasn't strictly speaking alone. But I can imagine." A pause, but a brief one. "That's why I wanted to go in to public safety, honestly. To keep people safe. This sounds like the same kind of thing, only with a widened scope."

And then the King takes off his mask, and the gesture brings Malakai to look at him directly, absently putting a hand out to touch the wall so that he doesn't have to stop moving for it. He's looking directly at Endymion when the word 'Kunzite' is said, and there's the faintest tick of a frown, and a a blink and a distancing of focus to go with it. He's heard the name before. It didn't sound familiar then.

The way he draws his hand back from the wall again to rub at the corner of his jaw, the side of his neck, places where an earring might swing against skin, says a good deal more to the King than it does to Malakai.

Mamoru Chiba has posed:
Endymion's face softens again, listening to Malakai's explanation of foster care. Of course he remembers the name now. He looks a couple of years older than the Mamoru Chiba that just left, with artfully lightened hair-- but his eyes are so, so old. He's exhausted and depressed and in extreme distress, and it's all there in the tightness around those blue eyes, and in the grief reflected from the back like a cat's eyes in the dark--

And then he nods firmly. "It's just a lot of seniority all at once. Also, I figure the four of you will have to work out some sort of workable command dynamic. Ah, considering Nephrite has a couple hundred years on you in this life. If--"

He shakes his head. "Nevermind. I'm speaking like it's over and done with. Do you have any more questions?"

Kazuo Saitou has posed:
"Only the one you've already answered," says Malakai Kuroda, who twentyish years earlier managed to escape a family bound for the ship of Death Phantom's followers, the ship that vanished, the ship that on its return dropped two entities near-twins of him to bar the gates of the palace. "'How can I help?'"

Mamoru Chiba has posed:
"First, by forgiving me for really wanting to hug you," the King says wryly. And then he leads Malakai into the same room he'd met with the alt-past Shitennou and their Prince, "And second, the one you want is pink."

It's a private reception area, a parlour, and there's a table with a box on it. The decor of the room is understated but as rich as dark chocolate ganache, with jewel tones in upholstery and the carpeting, and warm dark browns and cream colors in the architecture, wooden furniture, velvet, bookshelves, artwork, long drapes on tall windows...

But the box is closed, and there are two stones visible through the glass lid. One's a pale green-white, and the other's a pale pink-lavender that looks startlingly close to the inside of King Endymion's cape. The color of dawn.

Kazuo Saitou has posed:
"... Pink." Malakai glances down at his outfit, all in browns and just a little faded, and takes a moment to make a face. "If her younger self is any indication, Sailor Venus is going to make fun of me for clashing for actual eternity."

But he matches the room, the decor; not as deep a brown, but that just means he doesn't need the hair not to get lost in it. If he came in to relax in here, he'd fit. Already.

There's a pause with his hand by the lid, and that, too, the King can read. Uncertainty. Imposter syndrome. 'Are you sure you want me, I don't understand.'

The King has not been King for centuries by not being sure. And Kaito - Kaito he felt like he knew. And the King - Malakai wants, more than he's wanted anything in his life, for the King not to have to be so tired.

His other hand lifts to open the lid. So that he can scoop up the pink gem in the palm of his hand, drawing it in one swift gesture close to his chest.

The light that spills from between his fingers is the color of dawn. The inside of his cape is, where the light strikes it, the intense blue of the King's own eyes.

Kunzite does not collapse the way Zoisite did. He lowers his head in stages, slow, slow, till his chin and lips are pressed against the skin of his hand, his face hidden, his shoulders trembling. He breathes. Careful, controlled, he breathes.

Mamoru Chiba has posed:
Uselessly, useless, his hands are useless, not even in the same way the young Mamoru's hands had been when Demande was done with him, just -- they're dead to the world, comatose, there's only this, a translucent hand that falls back to Endymion's side noiselessly.

After a moment, he murmurs, "I'm sorry you can't hold me. As sorry I was when you were the ghosts."

Kazuo Saitou has posed:
Kunzite lifts his head at the words, and his eyes are Malakai's, and Malakai's eyes always were his; at this moment, they are reddened and overbright, and there is a silver fire burning in them.

"So," he says. "We fixed that. How are we fixing you?"