Summary: By the time Chichiri realizes the trap has been sprung, it's already too late.
Rating: PG-13.
Author's Notes: Direct references to past TasukixNuriko. Focuses on Tasuki and Chichiri's relationship, which can be read as platonic or pre-slash depending on your interpretation.
Warnings: Yaoi, references to character death, salty language. Spoilers for episode 33.
"Mind if I join you, no da?"
Tasuki shrugged halfheartedly, poking at the campfire with a stick. Chichiri took as permission to sit beside him.
Nuriko's death had taken a heavy toll, though Tasuki hid it well. He still squabbled with Tamahome at the slightest provocation, still wielded his tessen swiftly in battle. But away from the others, Chichiri often caught him in moments like this: face drawn and defeated, shoulders slumped, eyes dull and rimmed with dark sleepless circles.
Chichiri took off his mask and considered his fellow warrior carefully.
Truth be told, Tasuki was holding up better than expected. He and Nuriko had been in the earliest blush of infatuation, that special time when love seems to open up its own exhilarating new world. In Nuriko, Tasuki had discovered the rare personality who was not cowed by his brash personality, but energized by it; and in Tasuki, Nuriko had discovered someone whose blunt passion obliterated all self-doubts about masculinity and femininity. Many times had Chichiri spied them laughing together in the palace garden, or training together in the hopes that Nuriko's brute strength could be honed into a formidable weapon; he had even occasionally caught them emerging from each other's chambers with furtive little smiles.
For a period of time - only a few months, though it felt like a lifetime - one was almost never seen without the other. Until Nuriko's fateful decision to go with Miaka and Tamahome, and then to pursue Ashitaare, they had been inseparable.
Which is why Chichiri was saddened, but not completely surprised, to hear Tasuki say--
"I got this feelin', Chichiri, like Nuriko's alive."
Chichiri's heart lurched. Even now, all these years later, there were still days when Hikou seemed to stare back at him out of the crowd, when Kouran's ghost drifted in his dreams. It had taken years to master his heart's agony at every false hope, every wishful thought. He was now more painfully aware than he had ever been of how much younger Tasuki was: not only in age, but in experience. He did not know, and could not possibly be prepared for, the twists and turns that lay ahead of him on grief's path. And Chichiri did not know how to begin telling him.
Gently he asked: "What gives you that feeling?"
"I keep havin' these dreams," Tasuki said.
Yes, Chichiri had easily guessed this, given the restless mumbling he often heard from the bandit's tent. Not grieving dreams; laughing ones, dreams of Nuriko in better days. Dreams, the mind's way of trying to set life's injustices right.
"I know what yer thinkin'," he continued. "That it's just me wishin' fer him back. But... Chichiri, you've gotta believe me. I've had some powerful dreams before, but nothin' like this. The way Nuriko talks - it's like we picked up right where we left off. Sometimes I'd swear I could almost touch him..." Tasuki trailed off into a small, amazed laugh. "I'm tellin' ya, my mind ain't like yours, or Chiriko's. It ain't good enough to imagine all that by itself. I... I think it's really Nuriko himself, tryin' ta reach me somehow. Like his business with us ain't finished yet."
"Few people consider their business on earth finished when they are taken from us," Chichiri said, as delicately as he could.
Tasuki looked vaguely upset; but a shake of his head, and it seemed to go away. "I know it sounds like I'm crazy," he admitted. "But more and more, I know Nuriko's not really gone."
"Forgive me if this is intrusive, Tasuki-kun. But if Nuriko is trying to reach you, what does he want?"
"He needs-" Tasuki cleared his throat, a poor attempt to cover the catch in his voice. "He needs me to come find him."
Chichiri paused thoughtfully. "Does that sound like Nuriko?" he asked. "Would he not want us to focus on the Shinzaho?"
"What are you sayin'?" he demanded. "That it's all in my head? That I don't know what Nuriko would want?"
"Tasuki-kun. A grieving heart will snatch at things a wise mind would discard." Chichiri smiled at him sadly. "I know you were close to Nuriko, and no one is heartless enough to expect you to let go of him immediately. But - please, do not let go of your better sense, either."
"But it does make sense!" Tasuki said, growing fervent. "'Cause I've been thinkin', Chichiri. Suzaku himself selected seven warriors to serve him, an' the priestess. We were all fated to find each other. How can it be fate fer us to be broken up so early? I'm startin' to think we're meant to find Nuriko again, 'cause we're gonna need his help to get the second Shinzaho. So lookin' for him wouldn't be ignoring our duty to Konan, or the priestess. It'd be one and the same!"
"If it is fate that we seven stay together," Chichiri answered, "then Nuriko will return. But you and I are surely not powerful enough to reverse his destiny, are we?"
"This isn't some god damned philosophy riddle!" Tasuki exploded. "This is Nuriko's life! He sacrificed himself for us, and now there's a chance he might not be completely gone. The very least thing we owe him is to try! But you - you're sayin' we should just turn our backs on him? My god! For just this once, could you at least pretend to give a shit instead of puttin' on yer mask and actin' like this is all some big fuckin' joke?"
You don't know half the seriousness I am capable of, Tasuki-kun, Chichiri thought. But he absorbed the accusations with patience. Knowing the bandit's personality, he had expected this kind of outburst sooner or later; in fact, it would have worried him far more greatly if Tasuki were too broken of spirit to summon his temper.
"I will not fight with you, Tasuki-kun," he said quietly. He replaced his mask and stood up. "But should you wish to talk again, you need only ask, no da."