August Moon
Part 15 : Blind Face
©MMI T h r e a d s
Zoisite closed the door behind him with careful consideration.
He couldn't take the gossip of courtiers and courtesans anymore. He normally loved talking with them all, spending the day around them; he was always very popular … until now. They talked with him, but not with the same enthusiasm and excitement as they used to.
Some still treated him the same- perhaps they were almost friends to him. There were others that just talked with him politely… but he knew they spoke of other things when he was not in their presence… or just not looking.
Then there were those that plainly ignored him- the ones that turned their noses up to him. Whether it be religion or social canon; they didn't want to be seen associating with a homosexual. Not even that- an accused homosexual.
The courtesans didn't seem to be as rude to him as the others… likely because of the similarities in their situations.
Still, with every passing day, on a whole, his approval rating with those ladies fell. He had always been considered one of the 'girls' with them; because of his fair looks, because he loved to talk and gossip and look at clothing. Except now it seemed they had even more reason to call him a girl.
"He likes boys." One had giggled when she had thought he was not around. "He's definitely one of us girls; vying for the attention of a man of noble birth."
That had been enough for him. He was just a girl anyway, what did it matter if he ran away from his problems.
He walked from the Salon quickly, and without worry or doubt that he probably wouldn't go there again for a long, long time.
Sometimes he wished Kunzite would care more about what the rest of the court was doing to him. But Kunzite was Kunzite, and nobody ever dared to cross paths with him, and so the rumors and vehement words were almost solely left to Zoisite.
How the truth had escaped into rumor would never be known. Zoisite was a student to Kunzite, so there would be closeness of work between the two, but how the student-teacher dynamic had morphed into something different in their eyes, Zoisite would never know.
"Zoisite, there you are!" An airy feminine voice rang behind him. Zoisite turns to see a short, youthful girl no more than seventeen with long brown hair set in ringlets. "Why did you leave so suddenly? You shouldn't let their words get to you like that you know!"
"I'm really not in the mood now, Charlotte."
"You're never in the mood for anything it seems these days. Come out to the garden with me. Please."
Zoisite breathed in heavily.
"I have things to do. Important things."
"More important than me?" She asked sweetly, tilting her head slightly.
"Yes." He replied. It was not the answer she was expecting.
Charlotte pouted her rosy lips, stomped her foot and crossed her arms in an extremely childish manner. Zoisite wondered if he was the only one that didn't always let her have what she wanted.
"Fine." She said firmly. Zoisite bowed slightly as she turned on her heel and stalked off back towards the Salon.
Zoisite continued back down the hallway. He figured he would apologize to Charlotte later, that is, if she even remembered that she was supposed to be upset with him. As childlike as she was, he amazingly found her good company- the immaturity she brought was always refreshing.
As his thoughts continued to wander, he found himself at the door to Kunzite's room- like he did every late afternoon. He pulled a long, slim key from his pocket- tarnished silver in color and placed it in the lock. The door opened slowly.
He stepped inside the dark room and across to draw the drapes. He'd done it so many times the darkness did not hinder his navigation.
Zosite ties the dark navy drapes to either side of the large frame where french doors open up to an impressive balcony.
He pads back across the room to Kunzite's bed and begins to straighten the sheets. Kunzite does not like maids going through his room, so now Zoisite has taken the place of one for him.
He never minded taking care of Kunzite like this. It made him feel wanted, that maybe Kunzite cared more for Zoisite that he let on.
He steps to the dresser and begins to straighten up the top of it as he hears the room to the door click and a striking man steps in.
"Kunzaito-sama." Zoisite mumbles in a bow.
"How was your day?" Kunzites asks as he stripped his cape to the floor. Zoisite catches it before it hits the carpet.
"Alright. And yours, Kunzaito-sama?"
"It's been better, Zoisite. Much better." He replies, while he drops himself into a chair by a large, oak desk. "The King sees it fit to send complete morons for me to train now." He continued. "I'm to train personal guards for the royal family… not soldiers for the general enlistment of the army."
Zoisite gently folds Kunzite's dark red cape and places it neatly at the corner of the bed. He walks back over to Kunzite's side.
"Gods," Kunzite mutters as he pours some wine into a dark mauve glass goblet. "My muscles are so tense… is my bath drawn, Zoisite?"
"My apologies, Kunzaito-sama… I was held up before I came here… I'll draw it now…"
"No, no," Kunzite replied, waving a hand. "Do it later."
Kunzite leaned back deeply into the chair. "Massage my shoulders, Zoisite."
Zoisite obeyed and moved to behind where Kunzite sat. He undid the top four buttons on Kunzite's jacket and made it slacker around the shoulders.
Zoisite slipped his hands around and under the cloth folds and found the tense skin of Kunzite's shoulders.
"Zoisite, you've always been the best at this." Kunzite sighed before he took a sip from his glass.
"Thank you Kunziato-sama." Zoisite replied. "You seem very tense."
"I am Zoisite, I am."
End Part 15