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d d d d d d d d d d d d d d d d d d d d d d d d d d d d d d d d d d d d d d d d

I stood slowly as I recognised the sound; that gesture surely assures any sceptic of the depth of my love for the one who draws ever closer to me. Some have often said that I never truly loved him, and that hurts even more than the infinitely crueller whispers of a love that was perverse, dark and twisted.

Why could no-one understand that I simply loved my brother for what he was? And even though he has changed – the memories of that change still break my heart, even today – he is still my brother, still my Saffir, and it makes me happier than I have been in months to realise that finally, he has come back to me.

I turned towards the sound of the approaching footsteps; they are agile yet controlled, and they echo Saffir’s Savant mind. He can’t even take a step without planning it down to the finest detail, though with him it is so second nature he never notices it anymore.

The stone seemed to whisper as he walked, and even if it was only my imagination, I could understand why. Saffir returning to this garden was like the return of an old master…he had loved this garden far more than I ever had. The garden had only held fascination for me in the shape of this fountain, the fountain that I almost died beside. Yes…the stone whispered joyfully of the return of an old compatriot, an old friend…

He emerged from the dark path at last; it was just inside the opening in the hedge that he paused and merely observed me from a distance. Just looking at him was enough to prove to me that our memories do fail us – he was infinitely more beautiful than I had ever remembered him to be. His eyes were crystal clear and that dark blue hue, the colour of the deepest ocean at dusk. His hair was almost black in the dim lighting, but his skin was not as pale as it had once been. The time he had spent on Earth was obviously doing him a world of good. He would never have the California tan, but he looked so much more…animated that he had while living here.

His clothes were distinguished and understated; the metaphor that sprung instantly to mind was that of the proper English gentleman. Indeed, he resembled my theoretical image of an British university professor of physics so much that I almost laughed. My brother, the genius. How he must love teaching…my brother was always infinitely patient. He would have to be, with a brother like me.

He didn’t speak; he merely met my eyes as my heart began to ache. How long had it been now? Two, three years? A long time for a separation of the two of us, but perhaps it had been understandable, under the circumstances. Three years ago, we had barely been able to stand the sight of one another.

"So…look at you," I said haltingly, breaking the silence between us. "Amethyst did tell me that you had become the curator at one of Crystal Tokyo’s finest educational institutes, and you certainly look the part…very dapper, I must say."

Saffir did not speak; no, he merely came closer to me, as silent as a summer breeze. His eyes continued to stay fixed on mine as he stood before me, inclining his head slightly upwards. Saffir had always had to look up to me in this manner; it was familiar, symbolic and comforting.

Without a word, he raised one of his hands and slowly, wonderingly, ran it down the side of my face. I stiffened slightly under his touch, but I did not draw away. I allowed him to touch my face, my hair, my neck; he gently ran his fingers over the grey lapels of my jacket and smiled faintly. "Can’t always be the living legend, huh?"

My heart literally burst at the sound of the familiar syllables, the way this voice was hauntingly unceremonious, and yet somehow different. Saffir’s voice had taken on a slightly wiser tone, not to mention he had picked up an odd accent I did not recognise.

"What do you mean?" I asked, fighting the lump that built up in my throat. I swore to myself that I could not, would not cry. Quiet Saffir seemed nowhere as near to tears as I was…but then again, he had wanted this separation, and I had not.

His fingers lingered over my lips as he ceased gently tracing them. His eyes sought out the depths of my own searchingly; a faint smile, so faint I almost lost it, coloured those thin lips that he owned. "You’re not wearing your customary white," he said, in a whisper that was suddenly reverent and hushed. "I didn’t think I would find you like this…"

"I didn’t think you would ever want to find me again," I said honestly, searching his own eyes with my own. I was shocked to see how closed they were; they were not the troubled, melancholy eyes I once attributed to my brother. No…they were still not happy – when had Saffir’s eyes ever reflected genuine happiness? – but now they were calm, cool, smoky. Kind of like Saffir’s unusual new presence itself.

Saffir’s hand moved away from my lips to the side of my head; to my surprise, he used this grasp on my head to pull me slightly down to his level. He raised his face to my own as he used those smoky blue eyes to stare at me penetratingly for a second longer. He then closed his eyes lightly, and softly pressed his cold lips against my own in a brother’s kiss; he released me less than a second later and stared up at me with wide, uncomprehending eyes.

That was my undoing; my beloved brother, twenty-six years of age, looked suddenly three years old again…the dreadful age at which he had seen the murder of our parents, and had not understood. His eyes had been as glazed then as they were now; the vulnerability was so evident as to bring my own memories rushing back like a dam unplugged.

I wrapped my arms about my smaller brother and drew him into an embrace that we had not shared for years – oh, the agony of finally being allowed to have the one you love back in your arms! Brimming over with affection and relief, I could only hold him in my arms as one might try to hold onto the wind; I was so afraid that he wasn’t real.

Oddly enough, it was Saffir who pulled out first; usually, in our past, I had always been the one to leave the embrace first. He looked up at me sadly, with those wide and smoky-coloured eyes. "I didn’t plan to come and see you for a long, long time," he said finally, his voice low and polite. That was Saffir all over; he had always been the picture of quiet decorum. "But…we are not children anymore, are we Dimando? You are thirty-four, I am twenty-six, and it is high time I stopped being such a curmudgeon."

I smiled faintly. "Saffir…you were always the practical one, weren’t you?"

He shrugged slightly, the movement silken and magnetising. Oh, the agony of love…and I had never stopped loving him, never. I just didn’t realise how much I had genuinely longed for him until he stood before me like a hallucination. "I never tried to be…it just came naturally, yes?"

"As naturally as a computer virus," I replied in a tone that was only half-joking, though Saffir seemed to take it light-heartedly. He laughed.

"Yes, I suppose that’s one way of looking at it…but that’s not why I came to talk to you."

I motioned towards the fountain. "If you want to talk, why don’t you come sit down?" I offered, turning to move back towards the fountain that acted as a memorial monument to our murdered father. However, he surprised me; I felt strong fingers tug at my coat sleeve.

"No," Saffir said, quite pleasantly. He pulled me to his side and to my surprise, wrapped my arm loosely about my waist. I automatically mirrored the gesture, though I was a little startled by the show of affection. This intimacy was not reflected in his tone of voice or the use of my given name without suffix.

He gently lead me towards another part of the garden; for a full five minutes, we merely ambled along in silence, our arms about one another. The silence was not uncomfortable, per se, but it was far from easy.

"I wanted to talk to you," Saffir said finally, his voice low and precise. I could still hear traces of that odd accent; I supposed it was a result of having lived his life in the cultural stew of society on Earth in the thirtieth century.

I looked over at him, curious. "Talk to me?"

"I like it on Earth," he said decisively; his voice only faltered as he spoke the next words. "Somehow, though, it never quite fulfilled…"

"Aren’t you happy? I thought it would be what you had always wanted…I mean, it is Earth, and you have your numbers. And Amethyst…" I paused here, not wanting to help the rumour mill rear its ugly head, but still curious, nonetheless. "She told me that there’s…something between you and Tomoe Hotaru, the sleeping Senshi of Saturn."

He smiled faintly, looking off into the distance. "Yes…I suppose there is some merit to that story, Dimando. I came to love Hotaru a long time ago…more than a thousand years ago, to be precise…but our happiness isn’t your happiness, Dimando."

I looked straight at him, slightly confused. "I don’t understand what you’re getting at."

His eyes were still glazed, still gazing off towards the horizon. "Do you remember our flowers, Dimando?"

The reference made me frown. "Yes…I remember them. Did you think I wouldn’t?"

"No…I just wonder if you remember the other who loved the flowers as much as I did."

This time, I really stiffened; my arm tightened about his waist though he showed no reaction to my obvious change in temperament. "Saffir…"

"Do you?" he asked dispassionately, still staring off into blank space. "I suspect that you do…after all, I am one of the only people you ever showed the true depth of your grief to. I am one of the few who saw your tears."

"Why do you bring that time up?" I asked, scarcely able to keep the tremble out of my voice. "That has passed, Saffir – there is no merit in playing in the past!"

"And there is no merit in bottling up your anger like some demented genie in a glass case!" Saffir shot back, pulling away from my arm to turn on me. His lovely eyes burned with a smoky fire I had never known that he possessed; yes, he had changed. "Why do you have to be so difficult? Why can’t you share your grief with us instead of keeping it all for yourself, like you do with everything else in your life?"

I stared at him, shocked. "Saffir…I don’t think I know what you’re getting at."

"Do you remember the night that Amber died, the way you refused to see me even when I threatened to break down your bedroom door?"

The memory brought a faint smile to my lips; I quite clearly remembered the absurdity of that situation, though the agony was never far behind. "I was not ready to expose you to my grief, Saffir…I was only trying to spare you."

"Yes, spare me…and I sat outside your door all night and wept alone outside while you wept alone inside. Why couldn’t we have shared those same tears? They were for the same purpose."

"I let you in that morning, didn’t I?"

"Yes, and you were a closed book. It wasn’t until I threw myself at you and started bawling my blessed eyes out that you finally decided to cry yourself."

I shuddered, turning away from him. "Saffir, if you have only come here to torture me with memories of the past, then it’s best that you go now. If that is your reason for being here, then I cannot stand the sight of you." My voice was trembling now; I couldn’t believe the intensity of the hot ball of agony that was growing in my chest. "If that’s the only way you can love me, if you can only love me by hurting me, then perhaps you should just love me and leave me alone."

"I didn’t come here to torture you," he said slowly, precisely…and I could hear sudden and very naked pain in his voice. "I came here because I can’t sleep at night, thinking about you."

Once again, I turned back to my younger brother, fixing incredulous imperial-purple eyes on his. "You still suffer from insomnia, even now?"

Saffir nodded judiciously, his eyes meeting mine evenly. "As I remember, Dimando, you were the only one who could ever cure my insomnia…and then my nightmares."

I smiled faintly at the memory; when he was younger, when he had been released back to my care after I had overthrown the Usurper of my family’s throne, Saffir had been an emotional cripple, to say the least. It had taken me a full two weeks to get him to speak to me in more than a monotone; it had been at that point that someone had thought to tell me the reason why the eleven year old Saffir looked so ill all the time was because he never slept. No human body can go for long under such abuse…but this young child, the child I had loved so dearly, seemed to live in a world of his own. It wasn’t until one night when I had found him roaming the halls of the citadel at midnight that I had finally broken his cold and high barricade against the world that had only hurt and abused him.

I remembered that conversation very well; Saffir had sounded as always, like an automated robot. It wasn’t until I took him by the shoulders, kneeling down to match his height, that he actually looked directly at me and actually saw me.

"Don’t you know who I am?" I asked stupidly, quite unnerved by my younger brother’s blank stare turned penetrating gaze. Those eyes were much too world-weary for someone barely a decade old.

"You are the Prince of my Family," he said mechanically, his tone perfunctory. "You are the Lord of all of us; you are the one we entrust with our lives and loves, and swear to protect and serve."

"Saffir," I said in complete bewilderment – I was only nineteen and had no idea of how to deal with the pathologically introverted – "I’m your brother."

That was when something inside him snapped; Amber later told me that Saffir had spoken obsessively of an elder brother who would come for him, the one who had promised to be with him always, the shining and loving older brother who had held him close through the anguish of their parents’ execution and told him that he was safe, because he was with him.

It only occurred to me then that perhaps Saffir had not been old enough to gather a complete memory of his brother, and had therefore never recognised me as being that older brother. Certainly, no-one had ever come right out and told Saffir that I was the rightful heir to the throne and therefore his elder brother. Everyone had just assumed that he knew, and simply didn’t care.

His eyes had grown very wide as he suddenly reached out with his pale hands to run them over my face, my body. His eyes, so black-rimmed and haunted, closed in agony as he unexpectedly burrowed his way into my lap and began to weep.

My little brother…I had carried him myself to his silent and bland personal rooms – he had refused to decorate them with anything that suggested his personality, which he shielded from us all like it was forbidden territory – and placed the weeping and exhausted child into his bed. I thought for a second I had cured his insomnia – until he refused to let me go. The only way he would deign to sleep was when I finally relented and crawled into bed with him.

I broke him of that dependant habit over the next few weeks, but I often checked on him during the night. He became like a beloved child to me, as I searched for more ingenious ways of bringing him out of his shell…and I came to love him so much that it hurt my heart every time I looked at him.

Saffir was staring at me oddly by now. "You know, I prowl our gardens by midnight, thinking of you. It drives Hotaru nuts, but she can’t calm my fears. I worry for you, Dimando."

"Why are you worried for me?" I asked, slightly testily. "As I remember, you left here with the words that we should best stop thinking about each other, and let sleeping dogs lie."

"Just because I’m a former Savant, it doesn’t mean I can’t be wrong every once in a while," he said, rather flippantly. That was a painful reminder of my brother’s very odd, very fleeting sense of humour. He had often kept it hidden from the world.

I licked dry lips with a dry tongue. "What troubles you about me, Saffir?"

"Your loneliness," he said simply. "I should have realised it sooner…what was troubling me about you, I mean. I haven’t had a full night’s sleep ever since I left you for Earth, and Hotaru finally helped me to realise why."

"Why?" I asked flatly.

"It’s odd, how you never stop loving people," he said in a funny voice, his eyes once again gazing off into a distance that I could not see. "I mean, I thought that my love for you would dim…but seeing you again has just made it flare up again, and all the stronger! I love you, I never stopped loving you…!" He paused, and I realised – belatedly – that he was crying silent tears. "And that’s why I did it, oniisan."

The familiar term made me jump; I had never thought I would hear that again, after Saffir had coolly informed me of his plans to return to Earth, this time in the thirtieth century.

"Saffir," I said slowly, distinctly. "What did you do?"

His head was bowed; he couldn’t look up at me. "I didn’t do it, not technically…Pluto allowed it, and Saturn did it."

I frowned. "The Senshi Saturn is never supposed to awaken!"

"The Neo-Queen allowed it at the behest of Senshi Pluto, Hotaru and myself…Pluto assured her that it would not affect the timelines too badly, Hotaru begged to do it for my piece of mind…and I asked to do it for your piece of mind."

He was looking up at me again with those wide blue eyes. "Saffir…what have you done?"

I heard a shuffle of silk and the softest sigh from behind me; I heard the gentle tap of low-heeled court shoes almost overshadowed by the steady click of high-heeled boots. I spun about it shocked disbelief to find myself facing two women I had never thought I would see again.

The first was smaller than the second; her skin was as pale as ivory, her shoulder length hair dark and silken against this ivory skin. Wide pupils floated in a sea of midnight violet; her long glaive stood silently at the soldier’s side with a grace that only such an implement of death could possess.

But no, it was the other woman that magnetised my eyes, turned my thoughts into so much useless jelly. Narrow and lovely face, framed by a long mass of thick, golden hair that was pulled up into two odangos secured by heavy pearl clips. The loose and curling ponytails trailed down her back while her wide golden eyes observed me quietly, with a detached mischief that made my heart ache. Her slender form was encased in a slender white dress covered by red and gold robes, the scarlet of which was so bright that it hurt my eyes. Or was that only because I was crying…?

"Amber," I mouthed, completely unable to speak the name aloud. I was completely shocked; my vocal chords had frozen along with the tears standing in my eyes.

Saffir watched silently as I took my former wife back into my arms; his smile was sad and yet somehow very strong. He exchanged glances with Saturn before moving to tap me on the shoulder.

"I’m leaving now," he said seriously, and when I released Amber slightly and made to protest, he brought a finger up to his mouth. "Shoo-shoosh! Not a word, Dimando…I’m leaving. I have given you back the source of your happiness…because I am not strong enough to take that place in your life again, Dimando. Last time I tried to be everything and anything to you, we both ended up hurting each other more than we helped each other…but now, you have Amber."

"And I need nothing else?"

His smile was ambiguous; I could see the conflicting happiness and sadness therein. "You need nothing else." His expression grew sadder as he glanced at silent Saturn. "At any rate, Dimando, I cannot give you anybody else we’ve lost along the way…"

Saturn nodded, her beautiful earrings slipping forward, the crystal catching what meagre sunlight there was. "I can’t change the world like that," she murmured softly. "The Senshi of Death and Rebirth can only do so much…and it was Saffir’s pure heart more than anything else that pulled Amber back."

I frowned at the mention of once of those things. "Pure heart…?"

"The catalyst for Amber’s rebirth…well, I can’t really say catalyst, because it did change during the reaction…it almost lost all of its sustaining energy," the woman who had been the Messiah of Silence told me with perfect peacefulness.

My jaw must have dropped; my mouth was certainly wide open. "Saffir, you used your heart to bring my wife back to life…?"

He moved backwards from me with a sad, knowing look, and waved cheerily at Amber, who waved back. She seemed not at all surprised by this turn of events; I supposed she and Saffir had already spoken at length about this…

"I will visit," Saffir said suddenly, as he took up the senshi’s hand. Sailor Saturn smiled sadly at him and didn’t say a word; she knew that our relationship was never going to be the same, even if he didn’t. "I’ll always visit…"

"I’m never going to be that far away," I said gently, tightening my arm about Amber’s waist. "Sayonara…otootochan."

He grinned suddenly; I don’t think he had ever been terribly fond of that nickname. "Ja mata ne, oniisan."

For a moment, all we did was stare at each other, before I spoke again. "Am I invited to the wedding, or are you two planning to live in sin for the rest of your lives?"

Saffir and Sailor Saturn exchanged glances; a split second later, they burst out laughing. Before I could say anything in confusion, Sailor Saturn quickly sobered and looked at me with merrily violet eyes. "Gomen nasai, Dimando-sama! We just find that quite amusing…Saffir isn’t living in sin."

I looked between them, then at Sailor Saturn’s left hand a little closer. No ring adorned her wedding finger. "I don’t understand…you don’t wear a ring."

Sailor Saturn took Saffir’s hand in hers and presented it to me proudly, even though Saffir made a rather vocal protest as she twisted his hand around so I could see. "I know I don’t, but Saffir does."

I looked at the thick gold band with no small confusion, though at my side, Amber was chuckling, quietly and to herself. "He’s married…but you’re not?"

"Bingo," she said with a wink. "Saffir’s got something to tell you."

Saffir was blushing as he wrestled his arm back from the dark-haired woman. "Shut up, would you?!"

She pouted and punched him playfully in the arm. "Bite your tongue!"

"You should bite yours," he retorted back sharply, before turning to me with an apologetic expression. "I think I owe you an apology…but yeah, I do have some belated news to tell you."

I cocked an eyebrow, surprised at the change in Saffir’s demeanour. His cold front had dropped, giving way to an infinitely warmer personality. Saturn was still holding onto his arm, looking for all the world like his little sister or something. That was one thing that disturbed me; the senshi and Saffir had very similar facial structures somehow, and I couldn’t figure out why that was bugging me so.

Saffir coughed slightly. "Oniisan…you’re an uncle."

If my jaw could have hit the ground, it would have. "I’m a what?!"

"I married Petz two and a half years ago," Saffir admitted, somewhat sheepishly. "I know that I said I was going to stay away from her, but…"

Amber cocked her head to one side, giving me a strangely hard look. "Saffir also told me something rather curious about our children."

I paled considerably.

Sailor Saturn smiled.

Saffir laughed outright. "I have some…interesting news, oniisan."

Amber seemed to shrug slightly. "Well, not really, baby brother-in-law…it was Rudra who pointed it out, remember?"

The former Savant seemed to wince at the mention of that name – I supposed, quite correctly, that he was still allergic to cats. "Yes…well…Rudra-sama really is omniscient, so it seems."

Bewildered, I could only look between the three faces in confusion. Sailor Saturn was smiling gently, her eyes strangely mischievous for all that this woman was, Saffir was looking decidedly amused, while Amber was grinning.

"I love cats," she spoke up suddenly, her ponytails dancing about her lovely face as she laughed at my facial expression. "And Rudra-sama is such a nice cat…"

Before I could protest about that – Amber had to be the only person in the world who could associate the words Rudra and nice – Saffir broke in.

"Rubius is the damndest person in the world, you know, oniisan…I rather think we both misjudged him."

I blinked. "What?"

"He didn’t kill your children…he put them under the care of his half-brother in Judecca."

I spluttered, but not for the reasons that Amber and Saffir obviously thought. I could tell by their stunned expressions when I said "My children are being raised puritans?!"

After a second, Saffir laughed. "I suppose it’s true…some things never change…"

Sailor Saturn’s eyes shifted from me to my brother. "Oniichan, we need to go back to Earth…I need to lose this form before I become too attached."

Saffir instantly sobered, his eyes turning back to me. "Oh, yes…Dimando-oniisan, I suppose this is it."

"Wait!" I said when he seemed about to leave. "Saffir…you gave me all of this…because you thought that I would need nothing else if you did?"

He shrugged. "Some stories do have happy endings, Dimando."

I swallowed a painful lump in my throat. "But that’s not all that I need…I still need you." I paused, then said painfully "I am a rich man, Saffir, but I have nothing more to offer you…and we have so much to lose. Please, don’t turn away from me now…"

He sighed. "You know, I never seriously believed that I could walk away again…and I forgot to tell you I love you, and the night is so long and cold without you…" His voice trailed off and he paused for a moment. He then looked into my eyes and laughed out loud. "Oniisan, I loved you, but weep not for the memories…we’ll just have to make some new ones."

I frowned in confusion. "What are you saying?"

He shrugged. "Let’s begin again, shall we? …the past, it’s like this darkness hanging over us…let’s forget it now…because we need nothing else but each other, and our families."

I grinned at him. "I would have thought you’d be wary of families by now," I joked gently, and he just laughed.

"Families…can’t live without them, can’t toss them in the Abyss and never hear nor see them again…"

I broke off in mid-laugh as I realised it. "Saffir…just what did happen to Rubius and Esmeraude?"

Saffir looked to Sailor Saturn, who threw her hands into the air – dropping her glaive in the process – and declared "Fine, I’ll stay the Senshi of Silence forever! See if I care…but you know the drill. I am not raising the dead anymore…it almost resulted in your death the last time we had our little séance…"

He gave her an unexpected half-hug and looked back to me with a sunny smile that made my heart hurt as I held onto my former – now once-again present – wife. "Well, you see, that’s a long story…but I suppose that now, we have all the time in the world…that is, if you want me to tell you the story."

And we smiled.

"Do tell," I replied.