[Ficlet] Sailormoon: Son of the Morning
Title: Son of the Morning
Fandom: Sailormoon / AU
Characters/Pairing: Mizuno Ami, Zoisite
Rating: PG
Summary: Written for day 15 of sm-monthly's January Senshi/Shitennou challenge. The prompt given was It is with our passions as it is fire and water: they are good servants but bad masters. from Aesop.
Son of the Morning
It is with our passions as it is fire and water: they are good servants but bad masters.
- Aesop
--
He was the last appointment of the day. His file included a general background as well as his mug shots, but Ami was well used to disregarding both. This man, this Zoisite was not someone who could be easily defined or explained. There would have been no need for her services otherwise.
Ami spared a tight smile for the guard at the door. The man nodded back at her, a frown etched on his face. “Be careful, ma’am,” he warned, as though she hadn’t already spoken with the worst the prison had to offer, but she appreciated the sentiment.
“I will,” she replied, and stood aside to let him open the door.
The man seated at the table watched her, green eyes shaded and wary. His hair was a riot of dulled honey-blond waves, obviously unkempt despite the meagre attempt to pull it back into some semblance of order. Ami was appalled - though maximum security, the prison was nevertheless known for efficiency in both the treatment and discipline of its inmates. Yet somehow, this man appeared to have slipped through the cracks.
“Caldwell-san,” she greeted as she sat across from him. “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting. I’m Dr. Mizuno, your court-appointed psychologist.”
Ami did not expect him to greet this news with any great enthusiasm. Those who did, she’d found, generally did so in the hopes of using her to earn a lighter sentence. She had expected more of a reaction than a simple sharpening of his gaze, however.
“Caldwell-san?”
The man glared at her, an almost animal expression on his face, but then it disappeared and his voice when he spoke was very clear, cultured, if slightly accented. “Zoisite, Dr. Mizuno. My name is Zoisite.”
“Zoisite,” Ami repeated softly. “Like the stone, ne?”
“If you like,” he replied. Far from the hostility he’d expressed only moments previous, his attitude was now one of mild aimiability. He sat very correctly, one leg crossed over the other, and watched her from across the table. Ami was surprised to realise that he made her nervous, and she filed that reaction away for later. He smirked, as though reading her mind, and Ami fought the urge to place a reassuring hand on the briefcase by her chair.
“Are you fond of geology, Zoisite-san?”
Zoisite snorted. The sound startled Ami and she jumped, which earned her a slow smile. Green eyes watched her intently, waiting for another sign of weakness as though he were a predator and she, his prey. It was a disconcerting thought, and she glanced quickly at the shackles on his ankles.
“Afraid?” His voice was smooth, mocking and soothing all at once, and Ami knew she should end the session immediately. She’d never lost control like this before, but there was something about Zoisite that terrified her, something about him that wasn’t human, wasn’t right. “You should be, Ami-chan,” he murmured, eyes never leaving her face.
“You want to know why I did it. What could possibly have driven me to kill a man I’d never met before, ne? If you ask very nicely, Ami-chan, I’ll tell you.”
It was the repetition that made Ami realise he’d used her first name. “H-how do you ...” She hesitated. However he’d learned her first name, it was not only irrelevant to the session but harmful. The harm, however, was already done.
Like a cat licking cream from its face, Zoisite shrugged once, an elegant lift of a single shoulder. The curls that had looked so hideously tangled earlier now danced around his face, and she had the absurd thought that nothing so beautiful could possibly exist untainted. By what, she couldn’t begin to guess.
“She knows who you are,” Zoisite said in answer to her unfinished question. “Beryl-sama. She knows who you all are.”
There was no change in his tone, but his posture was suddenly different. Where before there had been a lazy arrogance, Ami now saw only anticipation, as though she’d accidentally startled a sleeping panther.
“Beryl,” she queried, wondering if the rest had been a game and he’d decided to stop playing with her. Somehow, she doubted it. “Another gemstone, Zoisite-san.”
The observation was meant to trigger a response, and it did. His eyes blazed, furious at her for whatever suggestion he’d read into it. He didn’t move, didn’t speak, but Ami could read the threat in his eyes. Whatever she’d accidentally suggested, she was going to pay for it.
“If I promise to take my time with you,” he murmured, “perhaps she will think that a fair trade for Endymion.”
Fandom: Sailormoon / AU
Characters/Pairing: Mizuno Ami, Zoisite
Rating: PG
Summary: Written for day 15 of sm-monthly's January Senshi/Shitennou challenge. The prompt given was It is with our passions as it is fire and water: they are good servants but bad masters. from Aesop.
Son of the Morning
It is with our passions as it is fire and water: they are good servants but bad masters.
- Aesop
--
He was the last appointment of the day. His file included a general background as well as his mug shots, but Ami was well used to disregarding both. This man, this Zoisite was not someone who could be easily defined or explained. There would have been no need for her services otherwise.
Ami spared a tight smile for the guard at the door. The man nodded back at her, a frown etched on his face. “Be careful, ma’am,” he warned, as though she hadn’t already spoken with the worst the prison had to offer, but she appreciated the sentiment.
“I will,” she replied, and stood aside to let him open the door.
The man seated at the table watched her, green eyes shaded and wary. His hair was a riot of dulled honey-blond waves, obviously unkempt despite the meagre attempt to pull it back into some semblance of order. Ami was appalled - though maximum security, the prison was nevertheless known for efficiency in both the treatment and discipline of its inmates. Yet somehow, this man appeared to have slipped through the cracks.
“Caldwell-san,” she greeted as she sat across from him. “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting. I’m Dr. Mizuno, your court-appointed psychologist.”
Ami did not expect him to greet this news with any great enthusiasm. Those who did, she’d found, generally did so in the hopes of using her to earn a lighter sentence. She had expected more of a reaction than a simple sharpening of his gaze, however.
“Caldwell-san?”
The man glared at her, an almost animal expression on his face, but then it disappeared and his voice when he spoke was very clear, cultured, if slightly accented. “Zoisite, Dr. Mizuno. My name is Zoisite.”
“Zoisite,” Ami repeated softly. “Like the stone, ne?”
“If you like,” he replied. Far from the hostility he’d expressed only moments previous, his attitude was now one of mild aimiability. He sat very correctly, one leg crossed over the other, and watched her from across the table. Ami was surprised to realise that he made her nervous, and she filed that reaction away for later. He smirked, as though reading her mind, and Ami fought the urge to place a reassuring hand on the briefcase by her chair.
“Are you fond of geology, Zoisite-san?”
Zoisite snorted. The sound startled Ami and she jumped, which earned her a slow smile. Green eyes watched her intently, waiting for another sign of weakness as though he were a predator and she, his prey. It was a disconcerting thought, and she glanced quickly at the shackles on his ankles.
“Afraid?” His voice was smooth, mocking and soothing all at once, and Ami knew she should end the session immediately. She’d never lost control like this before, but there was something about Zoisite that terrified her, something about him that wasn’t human, wasn’t right. “You should be, Ami-chan,” he murmured, eyes never leaving her face.
“You want to know why I did it. What could possibly have driven me to kill a man I’d never met before, ne? If you ask very nicely, Ami-chan, I’ll tell you.”
It was the repetition that made Ami realise he’d used her first name. “H-how do you ...” She hesitated. However he’d learned her first name, it was not only irrelevant to the session but harmful. The harm, however, was already done.
Like a cat licking cream from its face, Zoisite shrugged once, an elegant lift of a single shoulder. The curls that had looked so hideously tangled earlier now danced around his face, and she had the absurd thought that nothing so beautiful could possibly exist untainted. By what, she couldn’t begin to guess.
“She knows who you are,” Zoisite said in answer to her unfinished question. “Beryl-sama. She knows who you all are.”
There was no change in his tone, but his posture was suddenly different. Where before there had been a lazy arrogance, Ami now saw only anticipation, as though she’d accidentally startled a sleeping panther.
“Beryl,” she queried, wondering if the rest had been a game and he’d decided to stop playing with her. Somehow, she doubted it. “Another gemstone, Zoisite-san.”
The observation was meant to trigger a response, and it did. His eyes blazed, furious at her for whatever suggestion he’d read into it. He didn’t move, didn’t speak, but Ami could read the threat in his eyes. Whatever she’d accidentally suggested, she was going to pay for it.
“If I promise to take my time with you,” he murmured, “perhaps she will think that a fair trade for Endymion.”