Author's notes: There are a couple things I want to briefly note before you get started enjoying this fic. First, this story takes place approximately fourteen years after the events in The Hope. If you haven't read The Hope or the two stories preceding, you may want to do that. I've tried to explain anything major from the previous stories, but reading those will help. Second, this story contains a slew of characters that I made up. In fact, the only ones that actively appear in this story that I don't own are Tamahome (Taka), Miaka, and Nakago (who belong to Watase Yuu). Kaena, Lena, Vinny, Andy, Kajri and Kaberi, Marsden, and Luke are mine. Finally, I promise I will finish this story in a timely manner! It won't take me seven years like the last one. As usual, reviews are not necessary, but make the author very happy and agreeable. So without further ado, I hope you will enjoy chapter one of To Twist Fate to Justice, the fourth novel in my (heavily modified, but not particularly AU) Fushigi Yuugi universe. -nel
Chapter One – Reunited
Taka sat down at his desk and thumped his head against it several times. It had been an incredibly long day, and he was glad it was over. He had a stack of papers eight feet high to grade, and his problem students weren't becoming less of a problem. He had moved here, thousands of miles from his home, nearly ten years ago, and still he felt like a foreigner. And still the kids treated him like one. It wasn't the mocking that bothered him. He was old enough to not be bothered by rotten little teens poking fun at his accent or the fact that he was shorter than about half of the boys. He was too old to be flattered by the flirting girls, too. None of those things really contributed to the out of place feeling, and being in America wasn't the root cause, though it certainly didn't help. No, he had felt out of place, outside fate, or maybe oddly connected to it, for a long time. The tired feeling wasn't about his students; it was a strange sense of foreboding, the likes of which he hadn't experienced since that )he hated to say it) fateful day fourteen years ago.
He had been twenty-one at the time. He had been murdered at twenty-one, and then twelve years later, he had been miraculously resurrected by a strange twist of fate. Taiitsukun, or maybe some higher deity, had needed him, and so he had been granted a second life. So at twenty-one, he had lived again, and found that the love of his life had married his arch nemesis, Nakago, the man he himself had killed in another lifetime, and they had had a daughter together. A beautiful, special child, who had been kidnapped by servants of the dark lord Tenkou, who had somehow fought the demon god, and who had channeled the power of some higher god, a Being so great and so perfect that it made his head hurt to recollect. And she had channeled that power through him. And so fourteen years ago, he had had a strange vision of his future as her protector and maybe more, and had seen what might happen should her soul turn dark.
Things had gotten back to normal pretty soon after the last adventure. Nakago had taken leave of his political campaign to spend time with his daughter, and to train her in how to control her chi, and how to fight with hand and sword. Miaka had been driven crazy by them all, so she worked part time to get out of the house, and spent much time with her friends Hotohori and Nuriko. And Taka had avoided it all. He had tried to pick up where they had left off, spending time with his fellow seishi and joking and laughing, but they had grown up, moved on, gotten married, had families. Even Hotohori and Nuriko had started the adoption process after not too long. But that didn't bother him so much. He had his family. They had been shocked, horrified, at first. But his brother was thrilled to have him back, especially now that they were almost the same age and could troll for girls together. He had finished his education and gotten back to normal, despite the fact that there was nothing normal about him. Four years, he had lived and worked, and tried to stay in touch with his fellow adventurers without staying too close. Then one day, at the end of her rope, Miaka had asked him to come watch Kaena.
Nakago was out of town. It had been four years, and they were back on the campaign trail. Miaka was suddenly called away to her brother's side in Hokkaido, and Kaena was studying for the Jr. High entrance exams and couldn't leave. So Taka, or Tamahome as they still called him, went to the rescue. Somehow, he doubted it was coincidental.
He went to their fancy high rise apartment, and Miaka kissed him hurriedly on the cheek as she rushed out, giving him laundry lists of where things were and who to call in case of an emergency. And then they were there, alone, he and the eleven year old girl. Her ice blue eyes pierced her in a way that would have made her father proud. They were round and large like her mother's, but the color and the unnerving stare was all Nakago. They had, of course, met before, but that had been long ago, and she had been a different child then. She had come through the ordeal with Tenkou physically unscathed, but the older she grew, the more solemn she became, at least around everybody but her parents.
"Hi," he said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head.
Her blue eyes crinkled briefly. "You're one of them."
"One of your mother's warriors? Yeah, that's me."
"Which one? You don't go by that name anymore. The others do, mostly," her blue eyes looked through him, and he was shocked to feel the character for 'oni' come to life on his forehead. He watched her closely, and noted a vague violent aura flare to life around her briefly, but it faded away almost as soon as he sensed it.
"Tamahome," he said. "You shouldn't play with others' powers."
"Sorry," she apologized sheepishly, starting to sound more like Miaka, and more like the girl she should have been. "It was an accident. Sometimes it just . . . slips."
"I understand. I wasn't used to having my powers in this world either, and sometimes I would get angry or upset and things would happen. It took a while to learn to control it again, like I had in the past."
She stared at him again. Miaka was long gone, and Taka was floundering. What did a twenty-five year old man have to talk about with an eleven year old girl? Should he bother trying to have a conversation, or should he send her off to her room to study.
"Did Miaka feed you?" he asked suspiciously, looking at the thin, willowy girl. She definitely hadn't gotten that from her mother!
She raised one blonde eyebrow, and he laughed.
"Of course she did. Well. What do you want to do?"
"I have to study," she said. "And if you want to go home, you can. I don't need somebody to babysit me. I'm not a child. I can take care of myself."
"Your mom would kill me if I did that."
"My father would kill you if he knew you were here alone with me," she replied as she turned toward her bedroom.
Taka paled, that thought not having occurred to him. It wasn't so much that Nakago didn't trust him. They weren't friends, but they didn't hate one another. They ran into each other occasionally, and it was never terse. But he was protective of his daughter. Not, he thought, sensing her brilliant aura, which she made no attempt to mask, that she needed protection.
It wasn't until the next night that something odd happened. He arrived after he got off work at five, and she was already waiting there for him with dinner cooked. He had picked up Chinese on the way over. They looked at each other, and she smiled, grabbed his arm, and led him in. She had made Bratwurst and noodles, which Taka assumed she learned from her part-German father. She took the Chinese food from him, set it out on the table, and then sat down. And started to eat.
And eat. And eat. Taka shouldn't have been surprised, but although Miaka could eat like a horse when she was young, she had always been adorably chubby. Kaena was thin as a rail, yet ate more than he did. And being a grown man with strong magic, he ate a fair bit himself. He couldn't imagine the grocery bills!
"How was school?" he asked conversationally, when he finally managed to stop staring at her impressive food consumption.
"Boring, as usual," she said. "I already know everything they're teaching. My father taught me."
"I wouldn't think he had that kind of time," Taka commented. "He's pretty busy these days."
"He taught me before he went back to work."
She had been seven or eight at that time. She smiled pleasantly, her round, pale face lighting up with her amusement. But the smile wasn't as light and carefree as Miaka's had been. There was something cynical and dry about it. If he didn't know better, Taka would have thought it was her father's dark, somber personality showing through, but Kaena wasn't dark, she was just different. He wasn't sure how he knew, but he did.
"You're an odd girl," he said jokingly.
"I know," she smiled, and this time the smile reached her ancient eyes.
"So if you already know it all, why study for the exams?" he questioned.
She frowned thoughtfully for a moment, and leaned closer to him. Her slender hands were folded in her lap, and she looked at him as if considering the vastness of the universe. Finally, she spoke. "Can I trust you?"
Startled, Taka opened his mouth to speak, but then waited, and considered. Was this an enormous secret she was about to spill, something about life, something he knew was in those pale eyes? Or was it something childish? He sensed both within her.
"I haven't been studying for the entrance exams. I've been studying magic. Chichiri, you know, the old sorcerer, he's been giving me books. I read them all the time. I know most of the things in them already, but not all. Some is really dark, stuff I would never try. But some could be really useful, like healing magic, and stopping time."
"You can't do that type of magic, can you?" he leaned forward, hands clutching the edge of the table. He watched her aura, mesmerized briefly by her power. Almost self-consciously, she drew her energy into herself, but it still seemed to bleed out around her.
"Not all of it," she said quietly. "Not yet. Taka?"
He tilted his head.
Rose color bloomed on her pale cheeks, and he saw Miaka in her then, stronger than ever. Her face was round despite her slimness, and the color suddenly reminded him of the blush Miaka once got when he teased her or gently kissed her. He felt himself flush at the memory, but tried to pay attention to her. "Do you think I'm scary?"
"What? No!" he said, and she looked doubtful, as if he'd answered too quickly.
"The others at school are. They bully me sometimes. They can tell something is strange about me. The people at the shrines seemed frightened too, and even mom's friends, and Yui-san's friends, they never talk to me for long.
"Probably because you remind them of Nakago, and he's a scary guy. He was even scarier when we first knew him."
"Nobody will tell me about that," she commented. "You really don't think I'm scary? Sometimes it seems even . . ." she paused, and her breath hitched. Damn. He hated dealing with girls crying. He only ever seemed to make it worse. "Even mom and papa don't want to be around me."
Embarrassed by her tears, she stood up and excused herself, running past him to her room. He followed curiously, not wanting to invade her privacy, but wondering how such a beautiful, entrancing child could think such a thing. He followed her to her room and stood in the doorway. She was standing by her bed, narrow shoulders shaking with her quiet sobs. Her long hair fell around her face.
"Don't cry," he said softly, cautiously entering the room. This was forbidden territory—a girl's bedroom. Not just because he was a man in a little girl's room, but because bedrooms were private places, and he didn't want to overstep her boundaries.
"They're never here!" she cried. "I miss having my papa around. I know it's stupid, but I miss him, and I don't want him to be afraid of me. I know he can tell I'm different. He's scared of me."
Taka didn't mean to, but he laughed. He stepped further into the room and knelt down in front of her, gently clutching her shoulders. "Darling," he said, still chuckling. "I don't think your father has ever been afraid of anything in his life, even something more powerful than him. Trust me, I know. He faced down an entire army—well, I shouldn't tell you that if they don't want you to know. But take my word for it, he's not scared of you. And you know what else? You mother is very special and very, very different. He likes that. He's different too, and she likes it as well. They're just busy, but if you need them around, you should tell them."
"Why am I so strange?" she whimpered, and fell forward into his arms, her little body wracked with uncontrollable sobs. "What makes me so strange?"
"These are things you should talk about with your parents," he said. "But Kaena, you are a smart, powerful, beautiful girl, and you shouldn't feel ashamed of it. So cheer up, okay?"
Slowly, she pushed herself away to look at his face. She tentatively touched his greenish blue hair, which would have been odd anywhere but Tokyo and Konan, and then smiled, wiping her tears with the heel of her hand. Her long waves were mussed and her face was tearstained, but she was beautiful. And suddenly he felt desire for her. Not sexual desire, because she was only a child, but he could see the vague outline of the woman she would be, could sense the depth of power and wisdom in her, and he desired to have her, to protect her. He was hers. He stood up suddenly. "You should get back to your studies," he retreated from the room as quickly as dignity permitted, leaving her standing there puzzled. "Or back to your magic studies, at least. I'll be in the living room if you need me. Don't forget to brush your teeth goodnight!" his sentences ran together as he hastily pulled the door shut and bolted down the hall to the living room and out the front door.
He took the eighteen flights of stairs down to the first floor and stepped into the chilly night air. The lights of Tokyo were twinkling in the dim twilight, and he breathed heavily, sitting down on the cement. He got odd looks from passersby who probably thought he was a very well-dressed bum. He buried his face in his hands, but couldn't get the image of Kaena as a woman of strength and unbelievable knowledge out of his head. Taka couldn't ignore the pull he had, to desire to surrender to her, to let her have him completely. As much as he had loved Miaka, he had never felt that unconditional surrender.
"I am a twenty-five year old man," he said to himself, trying to breathe deeply. "And she is an eleven year old girl. These feelings are wrong."
He knew what he felt wasn't lustful, knew he wasn't a pedophile, but he couldn't stand feeling that pull. He pulled out his cell phone and called a female friend from school. She arrived in minutes. Later, when she would go upstairs with his key, she would tell Kaena there had been an emergency and he'd had to go. He just hoped she would forgive him.
That had been ten years ago. It took less than a month to find work in the U.S. He had lived in Manhattan for a year, working on his teaching certificate and his English, but had hated the city. When a job offer in Chicago popped up, he jumped at the chance. He'd been teaching there ever since.
"Taka," a colleague popped in. She was pretty, with red hair and blue eyes, an American woman through and through. Her name was Marlena, but she went be Lena with him. "I'm leaving. Do you want to get a bite?"
"Not tonight," he said, gesturing to the pile of papers. "Thanks anyway."
"That stack has been there since spring break. Are you ever going to grade those?" she laughed, coming inside his classroom and sitting on one of the desks. "What are they, anyway?"
"Term papers on the rise of communism in China, and the one of the three large government policies Mao instituted. They're terrible. I can't bring myself to grade them."
"Are American kids that much dumber than Japanese kids?" she asked thoughtfully.
"No, just lazier. And their parents don't breathe down their necks the same way. I have to admit if I had lived in a city like this as a kid, I never would have done my homework."
"Didn't you grow up in Tokyo?" Lena asked.
"No, I grew up in the middle of nowhere, a very small community . . ." he stopped himself, suddenly realizing he was describing his life in Konan, not in Japan. "Sort of." He laughed and ran his fingers through his hair. "Maybe I'll take you up on that offer. Pizza?"
"Sure."
"Giordano's?" he asked hopefully.
"As long as you don't mind sitting next to me in the train while I fart all the way home from all that cheese!" she grabbed his hand. "Come on. My treat. I love watching you get fat on American food."
"Pizza is Italian," he pointed out.
"Not the way we do it here!"
There was nothing, in Taka's opinion, like Giordano's stuffed pizza. One slice contained about twelve thousand calories of cheese, grease, and slabs of meat. He could feel his delicate Japanese arteries clog, and didn't care. Lena was good company, but he didn't feel that way for her, even though her interest in him was obvious. They parted ways when she got off the subway at Randolph street, but he continued on and eventually switched to the bus. It would have been easier to take a cab, but he didn't feel like going home by himself. Taka missed his family. He hadn't seen them since last Christmas, and they were all grown up and having families, and he was still alone. He had tried to date, tried to just have casual flings, but nothing satisfied him. Maybe he would go troll the bars for a while before heading home, just to see if somebody would come back with him. He didn't want sex, but he did want company. He should have invited Lena to stay. He closed his eyes, feeling cranky despite his fun evening, and drifted to sleep.
***
An hour later, he had missed his stop. "End of the line," the conductor called, and Taka was forced to get off the bus. He was somewhere downtown, in a seedy looking neighborhood. He stepped onto the sidewalk and raised his hand to hail a cab, but something caught his eye and he looked to the left and across the street. He spotted a flash of gold hair, not so unusual here in the U.S. as it would have been in Japan, but that natural white-blonde color, a color no bottle could reproduce, was still pretty rare in a neighborhood like this, consisting of mostly immigrants or African Americans. He darted into the street and almost got hit by about five cars, who honked and made rude hand gestures at him. Taka ignored them all and turned the corner.
He saw her ahead, the woman with long, wavy blonde hair. She was tall, or so it seemed from this distance, with willowy limbs. She was wearing dark jeans and a close-fitting cropped trench coat in a deep violet color. He followed her from a distance. He felt creepy, lurking in the shadows like some criminal, but he had to see her, to see if it was her. He felt nothing from her aura, and that distinctive lack of feeling should have told him something, but he couldn't be sure. Maybe it was just an ordinary human with no chi to speak of, or maybe she was intentionally masking her chi so well it felt like there was nothing there.
Her flat shoes fell with deliberate, long strides. Strides that reminded him of Nakago. Her golden hair was to her waist, and glinted in the dim street lamps. She crossed the street suddenly, jaywalking, and he followed suit a moment later. She crossed again, and then stopped, turning around and staring directly at him.
"Stop!" she shouted, holding out her hands in front of her.
Startled, he looked around to see who she was talking to, and realized with embarrassment that she was talking to him. He supposed he wasn't as subtle as he thought. He showed himself, and continued to approach slowly.
"I don't know you!" her voice rose, and he could sense her aura bubble within her. She was crouching, ready to defend herself, and he could see her face now. It was not as round as it had been in her childhood. It had taken on a soft oval shape. Her mouth was small, lips full and pink. Her peachy skin covered delicately tilted cheekbones, and her large, blue eyes were narrowed in fear and anger.
"Kaena?" he called.
She started, hands dropping half an inch. A normal man wouldn't have noticed her lowering her guard, but a martial artist like Taka could see the hesitation. That was good. He was pretty sure she could kill him twelve times before he hit the ground. Well, perhaps not, but she could give him a run for his money.
"Who are you?" she asked. "Marsden? I told you to leave me alone."
"No," he sounded amused now. Marsden? "What are you doing in Chicago?"
"Who are you?" she asked again, raising her hands.
"Taka," he replied, and allowed the character on his forehead to light up briefly.
She dropped her hands, and stared. She didn't try to defend when he approached, so he picked up his pace and came to a stop just in front of her. His heart was pounding desperately in his chest. She was so lovely. Despite the image he'd had of her, she was more beautiful in person. He could feel her aura now, twisting, confused, and . . . angry? Too late, he realized his mistake. Her long, white hand slapped his face.
"What was that for?!" he cried, shocked and angry.
"So nice of you to say hello after ten years!" she shouted, her blue eyes sparkling malevolently Taka could see both her parents in her now, and he was sorry on principle. "You didn't even say goodbye. And after feeding me all that crap about how special I was and how you weren't scared of me! You not only left the apartment without notice, but you left Japan! And came here? How--" she stopped herself in the middle of her tirade. "No, it doesn't matter. It was nice seeing you, Taka. Good bye."
"Wait!" he cried, slipping into Japanese as she stormed off. Her English was much better than his and he felt stupid struggling with words when they could both so easily speak their native tongue. "Please. Let me talk to you. I'm sorry I left without saying goodbye. I have to see you."
"I have no need of weaklings and cowards who lie and hide. Leave me."
"Gi Kaena! Stop acting like a petulant child," he commanded, and she stopped and turned toward him. Her pale eyes were narrowed and she looked about ready to kill, but she was listening. "Can we go somewhere less dangerous? Let's get coffee."
"It's late," she said coldly.
"Kaena," he said gently, using every ounce of courage in him to take hold of her beautiful hands. "I've missed you. I . . . I've been waiting for you."
He saw the vulnerability beneath the anger, and remembered that even her father had been vulnerable at times. She looked to the side and he could have sworn he saw tears in her eyes, but they were gone as soon as he noticed them. "Come with me," she said, pulling her hands away and walking more sedately toward the corner where she hailed a cab. The cab took them north and east until they were driving alongside the lake. The water was calm tonight, which was unusual for such a windy place. The water gently lapped the wave breaks, and the light from Navy Pier reflected on the water like thousands of tiny fireflies. They came to a stop a few minutes later. Kaena swiped a platinum card and thanked the cabbie, and motioned for him to follow.
"What are we doing here?" he asked.
"I live here," she replied, looking up at the high rise apartment building that reminded him of her home in Japan. She motioned again for him to follow, and he did so. She bypassed the elevator, and together they walked up ten flights. Kaena didn't look tired by the trek, but Taka had to admit he wasn't as young as he used to be. She smirked a little when she noticed him panting, and he immediately straightened and slowed his breathing.
When she opened the door, he inhaled so fast he almost passed out. The condo was beautiful. It was decorated in pale blue and gold, with splashes of red. He had a strange sense of Suzaku and Seiryu here. The entryway opened up into a living room with a high ceiling and a fireplace, and French doors that led to a balcony overlooking Lake Michigan.
"This is a beautiful condo," he said, still looking around. Odd, ancient looking artifacts were artfully scattered on shelves and tables around the room. A large, flat screen television receded into the wall. He could see the full kitchen and dining area from his vantage, and wondered how big the bathroom was in a place like this. Compared to his one bedroom roach motel, this place was a palace.
"My father insists I live here. He thinks anywhere else is a slum, and the suburbs are too boring for me. So he bought it. What are you doing here, Taka?"
"I could ask the same of you. I've been living here for years. Well, not here here, but near here," he stuttered, embarrassed. Actually where he lived was closer to the south side, and much shadier than the neighborhood they'd met in. He wanted to move to the West suburbs, but hated the idea of such a long commute. "What brings you here?"
"Graduate school," she replied. "At the University of Chicago."
"Getting your master's?"
"Ph.D.," she replied.
"In what?"
"My program is religious studies, but my area of research is ancient magic and ritual," she responded, those cerulean eyes steadily gazing into his. "And you're teaching, I've heard?"
He nodded. "At Ashburn."
She nodded, and moved to let him further inside, her graceful figure sweeping toward the kitchen. She returned with a pot of tea and two dainty blue cups. She set the tea on the coffee table and returned to the kitchen, returning a moment later with a lovely arrangement of cookies. Kaena gestured for him to sit, and he did so, nervously taking the cup she offered and a cookie. He chewed thoughtfully.
"My mother made them," she said, sipping her tea.
"How are your parents? I haven't seen them since their business trip to New York a few years ago. I made an effort to get out there, but I only had the weekend. Are they well?"
"Mom is dealing with a bit of early arthritis, but papa is healthy as ever. I think he's going to live forever. He's running for prime minister next year. I think he might win."
"Is he still in the DPJ?"
She nodded. "It would be quite a coup for such a foreigner to win," her eyes danced with laugher. Clearly, she didn't consider him anything but Japanese. "He's still very handsome, so the news stations love to give him interviews. I think the female reporters just want to flirt."
"And Miaka—your mom?"
"Still mom, still pretty," she smiled. They were silent for a moment, and then her smile faded. "Tell me why you left. You said I could trust you."
"You have to understand, I didn't want to leave you, I wanted anything but. But it was too hard, too dangerous."
"I don't understand. I needed you. You seemed . . ." she looked away. "You understood. I thought you did, anyway," she added bitterly. Her pale face was drawn, and Taka could see clearly the pain he had caused. "You said I could trust you. Be honest with me. Why did you leave?"
Taka looked at her closely, not sure if he could admit it to her. He felt wrong, confused, unsure. But he knew that she would sense his lie if he dared tell one, and that would truly break her trust. So he took a deep breath and set down his tea. "I left because that night when you cried and I held you, I felt something I shouldn't have felt for you. I felt," he winced and looked at his hands. "Desire. Not sexual! But I wanted you to be mine, and I wanted to be yours, and I knew it was wrong, so I left to spare us both."
"Desire?" she asked, something about her eyes deeper, further away.
"Do you remember what happened when you were taken to, um, Hell? When Tenkou tried to steal your body, but you fought back, and then that power came into you?"
She nodded. It was a very early memory, even for a bright child like her, but one would be hard pressed to forget something like that, he imagined.
"When you channeled that power through me, I saw a vision of you as an adult. And I saw several possible futures. In all of them, I served you. I was your mother's seishi a lifetime ago, but I'm your seishi now. But that bond seemed wrong to me when you were a child, so I ran. Do you understand?"
"Don't talk to me like a child," she said offhand. "I'm twenty years old."
Taka winced. Even though she was an adult now, he was still almost fifteen years her senior, and felt creepy and weird about his unnatural attraction to her.
"I don't remember that," she said quietly. "I remember everything up to that point, where I struggled with Tenkou and the Preserver fought with me, and then I woke up and everything is blank until I was crying in my parents' arms. So, you left to protect me from yourself?"
"I didn't want to, but I couldn't handle feeling so drawn to a child. I'm not a pedophile. I'm not a creepy old man, either. I don't lust after you or your body, but I long for whatever is in you. It's what I was resurrected for."
"Do you believe that? All that destiny stuff? My parents go on about it."
He shrugged, honestly uncommitted either way. "I can't deny what I see, but I fail to see the beauty in a plan that allows innocent people to die in order to suit some grand purpose."
Kaena was silent for a moment, and then looked out the window toward the great lake. She folded her hands in her lap like she had done that night, nervously picking at her jeans, and then looked back at him.
"I'm glad I found you," she decided at last, taking his hands from across the table. He felt her power jolt with his, felt the spark of desire that had never died rekindle anew, but this time there was more. There was more than just a desire for service, for a bond. There was passion. "I have class at eight. You can stay here, if you want. I can make up the couch."
"I should get back."
She shrugged her shoulders, and went to the kitchen again. When she returned, she was holding a business card with her information on it. He pulled his own shabby, cheap card out of his pocket and handed it to her as well. He slipped out and she closed the door behind him.