FYI:
This is a 'Yaoi' story. For those unaware of what that is, it means that the story deals with male/male relationships. If this in anyway offends you, you don't have to read. There are many other great fics out there. Also, this story contains a scene with rape. Again... if you don't want to read about it, you don't have to.Disclaimer:
Nope... don't own any of these wonderful characters. Yep... wish I did! Opening lyrics are from, the best band in the world, U2's Drowning Man. But, I'm not making any money off the story, so please don't anybody sue this poor college student!Note:
(Gomen! My last thing I promise!) I do use a few Japanese words throughout the story. Most of them you can probably figure out by yourself, but just in case, this is a little list of terms: Hai = yeah or yes, Hanase = let go, Yamete = stop, Itai = literally, ouch "^-~", K'so = damn, shit (vulgar expression), Nani = what, Ai shiteiru = I love you, Gomen = sorry.Okay... that about does it! "^-^" Enjoy minna!
Let the story unfold...
Surrender
by
: Hayla~
"Take my hand
You know I'll be there,
If you can I'll cross
The sky for your love,
For I have promised for
To be with you tonight
And for the time that will come."
~
Chichiri slowly awoke from his nightmarish state. A dark, oppressive feeling greeted him as he tried desperately to make sense of his surroundings. He was lying on his side on a cold, wet surface, his arms stretched over his head. Darkness surrounded him completely.
"Nani?" he muttered softly as he stared through his half-shut eye. It was swollen severely and a reddish liquid clouded what little sight he might have had.
In a sudden panic, he tried to sit up. "Itai!!" A sharp flow of pain washed over his body as his head slammed back down against the hard rock floor. He drew in short, sharp breaths. His chest felt like it was on fire. Pain pulsed relentlessly up his left side, from just below his ribs up to his shoulder.
He went to move his hands to his side, to comfort the hurt that radiated there, but he could not move them. Steadfast and true, they remained bound above his head. Desperately, he twisted his wrists back and forth, trying to loosen his bondage. The rope burned harshly as he moved. He bit down on his lip as the new sensation of pain added torture to his mind. Apparently he had tried to remove the ropes before. Blisters and rashes were already etched upon the delicate skin of his wrists.
Why can't I remember?
He heard murmurs from outside... wherever he had been placed. He wasn't certain himself. Moments later there was a rattling of keys and the sound of footsteps heading towards him. He turned his head to the sound of the commotion, not willing himself to dare move the rest of his body. He wasn't sure where else he might have unknowingly been injured. He tried to open his throbbing eye, searching out through the crimson darkness. A tall figure stood in front of him. He tried to look up at the face, but it was a futile attempt. All forms were lost to the obscurity of his demented vision.
"Well, well. Looks like our visitor has finally awakened."
Chichiri cringed in sudden recognition of the voice. "Nakago," he whispered hoarsely. His throat tightened with apprehension and fear. Chichiri raced through his own memories, trying to find the answer to the question that was burning inside him. "Why.... am I... here?" he managed to stutter through a clenched jaw.
There was a slight pause and a snickering laugh from the man before he took a step closer to the mage. "Because I need you."
"Nani? Need me... for wha—"
In a split instant, Chichiri lost all semblance of his surroundings as he was jerked up sharply by his bound hands.
Chichiri yelped in surprise as he was forced upright. His right arm made a sickening popping noise. He bit his bottom lip to keep from crying out any further. A small trickle of blood oozed from the corner of his mouth, but he didn't notice. He was only aware of his feet barely brushing the surface of the ground beneath him as he hung limply in the ironclad grip of Nakago and the pain the wreaked havoc on his frame.
The burning flame was re-ignited in his side, and his body fought off the memory of one injury to replace it with another. The searing white heat tore at his arm, his shoulder feeling oddly disjointed.
"Yours is not to question why," Nakago taunted harshly as he shook the agonizing monk. "Yours is but to do... and die."
Chichiri never heard the rest of what the general said. He felt the numbness in his feet first, then his legs, as it slowly claimed hold of his body. The burning pain ceased and his mind fogged over with a dark blanket that soon enveloped him completely.
His head fell onto his chest, and his body sagged in defeat as the hands of unconsciousness grabbed hold on the monk's tattered body.
~
Tasuki paced nervously in front of the sliding door that led to the room where Mitsukake had taken Chichiri. After the monk had disappeared, Tasuki had spent the next few weeks in a desperate search. What he found made him sick.
His fellow seishi's abused body was found right outside the Konan Empire's borderland. He was bruised with what appeared to be hand marks all over his chest and throat. His clothes were shredded, and his kesa was drawn tightly over his shivering frame. The rain that signaled the coming of the monsoon season soaked his body to the bone. He placed his cloak around Chichiri, calling out his name, but the monk barely looked towards his direction, too weak to move.
He had taken the almost comatose mage to the palace immediately, bursting through the gates, yelling frantically for the healer. He had reluctantly relinquished his defensive claim on the monk's limp body only through the sheer force of Nuriko. They brought him to his room, but Tasuki was so emotionally distraught at the site of Chichiri's tortured body that Tamahome had to force him outside the room to wait.
"K'so," he cursed under his breath as his feet traced their imaginary path back and forth across the balcony. "What's takin' them so damn long."
His fists clutched the magical kesa that Chichiri was so fond of wearing. Tasuki wrung it daftly in his hands as his teeth were gritted in frustration. The fabric was torn and soiled. Blood and dirt stained its once brilliant surface.
"Why did they do this to you?" He clenched his eyes shut, trying to stop the welling tears that bitterly stung his eyes. "Why?"
He brought the tattered fabric up to his face and breathed in its awful scent. The smell of copper and earth radiated through his senses as images of Chichiri flashed before his eyes. This shouldn't of happened. Not to you... not you.
He tried to erase the images of the monk's gruesomely tortured body with memories of a better time. The time when he had first confronted Chichiri about his feelings – when nothing could have gone wrong.
He was sitting so peacefully on the rocks by the pond. His fishing pole was loosely held in his hand as he sat happily basking in the late day sunlight. Tasuki had been observing him for the past hour, admiring the monk's peaceful resolve. He never caught anything – probably never would. But whenever he had the chance, he would pick up his pole and head to this pond for quiet meditation.
Gathering up what courage he could muster in the face of his overwhelming anxiety, Tasuki moved from his hiding place, where he had so often sat to watch the monk, out into the open. He climbed cautiously onto the slippery rocks and seated himself carefully next to Chichiri.
"Catch anythin'?" he asked nervously as he stared out across the pond. He tried to look calm and collected, but the truth was that he was scared to death. He hoped that light conversation would make his confession a helluva lot easier to say.
"Nope. They must not be hungry today, no da?" Chichiri turned his masked face towards his fiery haired companion and laughed lightly.
Preoccupied, Tasuki didn't respond to his friend's light-hearted reply. He rubbed his hands nervously together.
"Hey, Tasuki-kun, you look a little pale, no da?" He gently pulled in his fishing line and placed the pole to his side. "Are you feeling alright?"
"Yeah, uh... well." He let out a long sigh before continuing. "I kinda have somethin' I wanna talk to you about. Well, I guess not talk to ya' about. It's more of telling you really. But, we could talk about it if you don't get too offended and I don't scare you off. Or if you don—"
"Relax, no da," he interrupted his friend's ramblings cheerfully. "You can tell me anything, no da? You don't have to be nervous." Chichiri placed a reassuring hand on the bandit's shoulder.
Tasuki shivered slightly at the touch. "Yeah, right," he muttered sheepishly. He unclenched his hands and rubbed the sweaty palms back and forth across his pants in a desperate attempt to distract him from the nauseating feeling that was rising steadily in his stomach.
He blew a quick breath upwards that tossed his fiery hair away from his eyes. "You see, it's like this. I... aah." He paused as words began to fail him. "I like ya' Chichiri."
Unfazed, the monk replied heartily. "Well I like you, too, no da?"
Tasuki sighed as his meaning was miscommunicated. He turned to face the older seishi so that he could understand the full significance of his words. "No. I mean I like ya'. You know, as in more than just friends."
The monk was silent for what seemed like an eternity. His ever-smiling facade stared blankly down at the bandit. Tasuki couldn't read any emotion from Chichiri's face, and had absolutely no idea how the mage was handling his declaration.
He felt the blush spread uncontrollably across his face as the silence continued. He turned his head away, and returning his gaze across the pond. "Dammit, Chichiri. Could you take off that damn mask of yours?" he asked quietly. He wasn't sure how Chichiri felt about him, but he thought that he might atleast be able to read facial expressions.
Tasuki felt a light squeeze on his shoulder before Chichiri removed his hand. "Tasuki. I've never thought of you that way before," the mage said softly.
The bandit stole a glance over, only to see that Chichiri still wore the indiscernible mask. "Yeah," he said as he got up suddenly. "I thought so." Inside his heart was breaking. He knew that there was a possibility that his feelings would not be returned. "He is a goddamn monk after all," he cursed silently to himself. But still, there was always that small glimmer of hope that made him believe in the impossible – that maybe... just maybe... Chichiri could have felt the same way about him.
He was already a few feet away from the rocks when he heard the rustling of movement behind him. He turned half way around when Chichiri's hand suddenly latched onto his elbow.
"Wait," he said almost breathlessly. He uncurled his fingers and let go of Tasuki's arm, slightly shocked by his own actions. He brought his hand up to his face and, to the younger seishi's disbelief, began to peel away the mask.
Chichiri's face was slightly bent towards the ground, and Tasuki was almost taken aback when he saw a flush appear against the monk's ivory skin.
"I never said I wasn't willing to try." He spoke softly, but Tasuki hung onto every word like it was a lifeline.
"Then... you could... I mean, yer willing to—"
The mage merely looked up, his eye alive with a small sparkle of possible hope. A small smile fought its ways to his lips. A true smile. There was no need to hide behind false appearances when emotions were that pure.
That's how Tasuki tried to envision him now – the perfect silhouette of happiness in the quickly fading sun. His dreams came true that night, and he would be damned to hell if he let them end like this.
He removed the kesa from his face only to discover that the surface was soaking wet. Not from blood or the rain, but from...
"Tears..." He had not even realized that he was crying so hard, but now the drops flowed freely down his face, and he would do nothing to stop them.
"Tasuki?" He heard Nuriko call out softly as the door slid open. "Mitsukake is finished if you want to come in."
He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. He had to get his emotions under control. He entered the well-lit room and saw Chichiri lying on the bed. His clothes had been removed, and he was now covered with light linen sheets. All the outer appearances of bruises had been healed completely. Tasuki no longer saw the brutal hand marks that marred his body, or the bone that jutted out unnaturally from his shoulder. His skin was smooth and pale.
His eyes rested on his lover's face. The erratic scar that marred his otherwise flawless appearance was still there, but the gash above his other eye had completely faded. He knelt next to Chichiri's bed and ran his fingers through the mage's matted blue hair, trying to return them to their once silken form.
"Why isn't he awake?" Tasuki asked harshly, his frustration taking the better control of his mind.
"I am not sure," came Mitsukake's tentative reply. There was no reason for why the monk had not awoken yet. He had healed every injury at the cost of his own strength. "Perhaps he does not wish to."
"What he hell's that supposed to mean?!" With a snarl that flashed his pointed teeth, Tasuki got up quickly and turned around, grabbing the healer's collar. "Maybe you just didn't heal him properly the first time! Do it again!" He spun Mitsukake around sharply, causing him to stumble and fall slightly onto Chichiri's bed. He grabbed the seishi's hand and forced it onto the monk's chest. "Come on, dammit! Do yer thing!"
"I... I can't." Mitsukake said quietly as he removed his hand and pushed his tall frame back up to its standing position.
"Can't or won't!" Tasuki yelled back severely. He clenched one hand around the kesa, and brought the other to a fist, which he shook menacingly at Mitsukake's face.
He was about to let his fist fly when Hotohori's commanding voice rang out harshly. "That is enough, Tasuki. He has done all that he was able to do."
The bandit had not even realized that the emperor was in the room, but he let Nuriko calmly push his fist back down to his side. He suddenly lost all will to fight and let the anger drain from his body. With all his energy spent, he slumped into a chair that was next to the bed. He kept his eyes downcast, shame and fear keeping him from looking up to his friends.
"We'll just leave now," Nuriko prompted gently as he took hold of the emperor's arm, leading him quickly out the open door. Mitsukake turned to follow.
"Thank you," Tasuki whispered.
The healer nodded in recognition of the apology and slid the door shut softly behind him.
He glanced sideways at Chichiri's still form. Noting that his breaths were quiet, but steady. He looked almost peaceful. "Too peaceful," Tasuki thought to himself.
It should have been me.
~
"Are you sure about this?" Tasuki glanced apprehensively at the monk who was sitting next to him on the bed.
"Yeah. I'll be back soon, no da?" He finished tying up his boots and turned to his rather fidgety companion. "Don't worry, no da? I'll be back in a couple of weeks."
"Well, shit. I just don't understand why I can't go with ya is all." His shoulders slumped and he stared down into his lap. He didn't like the idea of Chichiri traveling all alone. He knew that the monk could handle himself if anything unfortunate should arise, but he had a nagging apprehension that he was just not able to shake.
"Mount Taikyoku is pretty far, no da? I'll move a lot faster by myself." Tasuki frowned at his answer.
"I didn't do nothin' to upset you, did I? I mean... did I do somethin' wrong?"
Chichiri's answer was simple. He removed his mask and leaned over to kiss the bandit. The fiery haired man was shocked for a moment, but then quickly began to relax. He slipped an arm around the mage's frame, deepening the kiss, and pulled him on top as he laid back into the pillows of the bed.
Chichiri had used this tactic on more than one occasion to settle the fiery young man. It always worked. Tasuki soon let his apprehension melt away as he tasted the monk's lips. They were sweet, as always, and there was a small hint of incense that traced the delicate skin.
Chichiri slowly broke away. Tasuki lingered small kisses on the cheek and neck of his companion as he got up. "Besides," he smiled, replacing his mask. "You hate Taiitsukun more than anyone else I know!"
Tasuki sighed and folded his arms behind his head, watching the mage leave. "What's the old bag have that I don't, anyway?"
"Hmm..." Chichiri mused playfully – a light laugh teased his throat. "The world?"
With that he placed on his kasa, and with a small gesture of his hand, he disappeared.
"Show off," Tasuki muttered quietly as he closed his eyes. "Hurry back."
~
Tasuki awoke from his fitful nap. He hadn't realized he had dozed off, but he quickly looked to his side. Chichiri still laid there, unconscious. It had been almost a day since he was brought back to the palace. Outside the rain poured down heavily. Monsoon season had finally set in and the rain never seemed to stop. It fit Tasuki's mood perfectly.
He got up from his chair and stretched, yawning despite himself. He wanted to be up when Chichiri finally awoke. He sat back down on the edge of the bed, watching the older seishi's face as he slept. Tasuki reached out his hand and traced a thumb across Chichiri's lips. He leaned down and lightly kissed him, remembering with fondness the last time he had stolen a sweet kiss.
Chichiri's head turned sharply away from Tasuki's and a small cry escaped his lips. With a sudden alarm Tasuki jumped off the bed and leaned over the monk.
"Chichiri? Hey, you awake!" His heart soared with hope as he heard Chichiri murmuring something. But all was lost when he saw the once peaceful face of the mage twisted with hate, his brow furrowed as his ramblings continued.
Tasuki leaned an ear down closer, trying desperately to hear what was being said.
"Please.... please," Chichiri whispered, his voice pleading. "No more... no... please."
Tasuki sat back up. All he had done was give him a kiss. He reached out and touched the monk's hand, but Chichiri pulled away harshly, turning to his side and pulling his small form in a tight ball, the sheets pulled up to his chin. "Yamete... no more."
The bandit's heart broke with each word. What happened to you? He sat back again in his chair, regret welled up within him as the shock of Chichiri's reactions slowly sunk in.
~
"Would you like something to drink?"
Chichiri lolled is head around to face the blond general. He wasn't sure how he had gotten there, but he was in a rather large chamber, presumably Nakago's. His head felt about ten times heavier than its normal weight and his neck ached terribly.
He was hanging rather precariously in the center of the room. His wrists once again tied over his head, stretching his injured arm in a tormenting fashion. He noted with some relief that his feet were actually touching the ground this time.
His eye, he suddenly realized, was less swollen, and he could feel a bandage over the gash he had somehow received during his capture. He shivered as he noticed he had no shirt on. He quickly checked his side and saw that it too was wrapped up and treated, though he could still venture to guess that a rib or two was broken.
"Don't look so surprised. I do try to take care of all my guests. Even if they are the enemy." Nakago stood in front of Chichiri and held a beaker of water to his lips. Although the monk was rather parched, and his throat burned for relief, he turned his head, refusing the offer.
Nakago tisked softly under his breath, and with a strong hand he cupped Chichiri's face. He placed the vessel on the edge of the seishi's lips and forced his jaw open. Too weak to resist the temptation, he let the general manipulate him.
He coughed at first, unprepared for the cool liquid as it streamed in a gush down his throat, but he lapped up the fluid eagerly and almost begged for more when the cup ran dry.
"You see," Nakago admonished slyly as he wiped away the moisture from around the monk's mouth. "If you just cooperate, everything will be just as pleasurable. I promise."
"What is it that you want?" Chichiri asked evenly. He dared not let the Seiryu general know the fear that raced through his soul. It was so unlike him to feel this way, but he feared the glint in Nakago's eye as it looked over his battered body. He feared the touch of the man's hand on his chin as it gently wiped away the water. He feared it all.
"Oh, don't you know by now?" Nakago dropped the pewter stein and grasped Chichiri on either side of his head, pulling the monk closer to him. Chichiri winced as the tug on his arms shot pain though his dislocated shoulder. The general tilted his head slightly as their breaths intermingled. "I want you."
Nakago began to kiss him roughly. Chichiri tried to twist his face away from the imposing hold, but the general's grip was firm and he could do little but literally hang there. He didn't respond as he felt Nakago's tongue trace his bottom lip. He clenched his jaw tight and closed his eye. He can't do this to me.
Nakago pulled away for a moment and chuckled. "You will give me what I ask for."
Chichiri yelped out in pain as Nakago squeezed his injured ribs. The general took the opportunity to ravage the monk's mouth. He felt the Seiryu warrior's tongue slide hungrily across his palette.
He tastes like alcohol. The stench overwhelmed the monk and he once again tried to break free from the intrusion, but a hand at the base of his neck kept him securely in place. With no other option, he bit down upon the invading tongue.
Nakago leapt back in surprise and placed a hand over his mouth. Chichiri watched as a small stream of blood trickled over his fingers. The blond looked down at his hand with amusement. He wiped the remaining blood from his face and spit the red liquid out of his mouth. "You shouldn't have done that. Now you are going to have to make things right."
Chichiri was taken aback by the generals odd statements. He wasn't sure if he was totally drunk, or if something else had caused his sudden dementia. He didn't have time to ponder any further as a rock hard fist connected with his abdomen. All the air rushed out of his lungs and his legs gave way beneath him. He sagged, his head down on his chest as he gasped desperately for air. His arms, the only support of his frame, ached and Chichiri saw flashes of light dance before him. In a dazed state, he once again felt Nakago's hands grabbing him and forcing him into another kiss. Chichiri gagged as the mixture of copper blood and alcohol was forced upon him.
Nakago broke away again and ran his fingers lightly over Chichiri's scar. "Beautiful," he whispered as he kissed the marred eye. His fingers traced around its ragged edges and rested on the mage's chin. He forced his head upwards and Chichiri felt in disgust as the general's hot mouth trailed kisses along his throat. He licked and nipped at the tender flesh, as he tasted the magician's salty skin.
Chichiri gritted his teeth in disgust and horror, still trying to catch his breath as the world spun dangerously around him. Suzaku, please. Help me! Tasuki! He wasn't sure exactly why he called out the bandit's name, but his soul screamed for him. Why didn't I listen to you?
~
Chichiri felt the warmth first -- the almost unfamiliar heat of a bed and blankets. He smelled candles and rain as he slowly turned his head. Slowly, limb by limb, he awoke. At first he was afraid to open his eye. But then he noticed that he felt no pain. The ache in his side was gone. Cautiously, he moved his arm, only to discover that it, too, was whole again.
He blinked his eye open, letting his sight adjust to the pleasant and familiar surroundings.
Tasuki was almost immediately up at his side. "Hey, sleepy head. Welcome back to the world of the living." He smiled softly as he looked down upon the rather dazed monk.
"Ta... Tasuki?" His voice was almost laced with disbelief. Panicking, he tried to remember how he had gotten back to the palace, or who even had brought him there. He sat up slightly, searching hopelessly around the room, still trying to believe that this was more than just a dream. "How..."
"I found you."
Chichiri shook his head in disbelief, exhausted, he sunk deeply back into the pillows. He turned his head away from Tasuki and stared out the window on the far side of the room. The rain was pouring down in heavy drabs. He wondered how long he had been away, or how even Tasuki knew to look for him.
Tasuki sat down next to the mage and grasped his hand gently. As if reading Chichiri's thoughts, he answered his question. "I thought I heard you calling me. I... I just knew."
Chichiri yanked away his hand, surprising himself with his own reaction. It was then that he noticed that he had no shirt on. Bitter memories stung sharply on the monk's mind as he recounted his tortures with vivid accuracy. He felt sick. He rolled over on his side, his back away from the bandit.
"Chichi—"
"I'm okay. Just a little tired," he lied flatly.
"Ah... alright." Tasuki got up slowly. He reached out to touch Chichiri's bare shoulder, hoping to comfort his obvious pain. The monk jerked away.
"I... I just want to be alone, okay?" He hugged the pillow under him and turned a cold shoulder to the fiery haired man. Just please don't touch me.
Without another word, he left the mage alone in his chamber.
Chichiri turned his face into the pillow, tears spilling out uncontrollably. It hurts so much. He knew that he had wounded Tasuki's feelings, but he couldn't control his body's response. The slightest touch on his skin brought back brutal memories, and the undying shame that lingered heavily over his spirit. "I'm sorry," he choked into the pillow, the tears wetting his throat. "I'm so sorry..."
Tasuki stood outside Chichiri's room for a moment. His eyes were wide and he stared blankly at the ground in front of him. He felt anger fill up inside of him. Not at Chichiri, but at something else. When he found the monk, he had noticed the bruises that resembled hand marks all over his body – on his throat, chest, thighs. He tried not to think about it, pretending that he was just mugged, or, caught in a mob. He wanted to believe in anything but this. Not this.
The rage threatened to overtake him as he clenched his fists tightly. How could they do this to him? It wasn't right. His stomach turned and tightened the more he thought about it. Goddamn bastards raped him. He wanted to cry. He wanted to fight. He didn't know what to do. He wanted to make things better, but how could he?
Nuriko appeared from around the corner. A small smile traced his lips as he carried a tray of food and drink. "Hey-ah, Tasuki! What's the word!" His voice was bright and cheery – too happy for the bandit to handle.
"Fuck off," he shouted as he walked quickly down the stairs in front of him that led out into the open pavilion.
"Hey!" The slightly abashed seishi called out after him. "Where do you think you're going in this kinda weather!"
Nuriko's words were lost to him as he began to run. His feet sloshed heavily through the muddy puddles as the bitingly cold rain stung his face. He had to run... or lose control. The former seemed more appealing. His mind raced, frantic for answers, but finding none. Only the one question burned in his mind. Why?
~
"Hanase," Chichiri yelled back fiercely. "Let go of me!" He squirmed futilely against the callused hands that touched him.
"Why would I do that?" questioned the lustful voice as he once again ran his fingers down the monk's chest.
"Itai," he cried out under his breath as the hand once more rested on his bruised side. His head still felt like it was swimming in a cloudy fog. "Have I been drugged?" He wondered as he bit down on his lip to keep from crying out from the agony he felt in both mind and body.
He felt Nakago's hands grip into his flesh, leaving bruises as he harshly trailed kisses down his chest. He felt the warlord's hands rub across his flat stomach then pause momentarily at the line of his pants. Slowly, his body shivered as the hands groped even lower.
"Stop it," he hissed as he felt a haze envelope him. His mind screamed for action, but his body would not comply. He was paralyzed – with fear, with hate. He could do little. Tasuki. His mind reached out for the one that he did love, his heart aching with the thought of what was happening to him. Forgive me!
He became aware of nimble fingers untying the front of his pants. Nakago slipped behind the suspended mage, resting his forehead on the base of the blue haired seishi's neck. Chichiri felt his breath at the nape of his neck as the venomous heat stung his flesh, causing him to shudder with utter disgust and disbelief.
Icy cold hands pushed down at the waistline, shoving it over the monk's slender hips, and letting the unwanted garment fall to the floor.
"Beautiful," he whispered as he grabbed Chichiri's throat and squeezed gently, warning him not to speak too much. He brought his mouth down upon the seishi's shoulder, relishing in the taste of his flesh.
Chichiri's mind slowly began to shut down. He kept his eye open and stared straight ahead. This isn't happening to me. He thought over and over again. The sensations that flooded his body, a mixture of pain and repulsion, lessened as he slipped into his own world. He could no longer feel the incessant groping of his body, only the warmth of an imaginary sun and the feel of cool grass under his feet. Reality melted away, and the defensive lock-down took over his mind. He stopped struggling to keep aware and let the waking dream take over completely. He could escape now. He left the harsh reality, not even aware of the assault his body was under. It didn't matter anymore.
Nothing mattered.
~
Tasuki returned the next day to Chichiri's chamber. He stood in front of the sliding door for a moment before he entered. He was trying to think of a way to help the monk overcome the horror of what had happened to him. It hurt the bandit so much to see Chichiri in that state. Not being even able to stand another person's touch. Tasuki shuddered as he thought of what atrocities might have been afflicted upon his lover.
He slid the door open and stepped tentatively inside. A quick glance around showed the monk on the edge of the newly made up bed, busily tying up the last lace in his shirt. Much to the pleasant surprise of the fire seishi, Chichiri was fully dressed and apparently moving about.
"Tasuki-kun, no da," came the familiar cheery voice. Tasuki's heart slid down into his stomach as the older seishi turned a masked face towards him. He feigned a smile and headed over to his friend. He didn't want Chichiri to hide behind his guise again, a false front put on to hide his pain. It had taken Tasuki almost two full months to convince the mage that he didn't need to wear it around him. He thought he was beautiful and never needed to hide his true self.
"How ya doing, Chichiri?" He pulled the chair up so that he was facing the magician. "You feeling okay?"
"Never better, no da?!"
Tasuki cringed as the almost too fake affront hit him hard. "You don't hafta pretend for me, you know."
"Who's pretending! I'm feeling much better, no da!"
"Fine, whatever," the bandit muttered frustratingly under his breath. "Look, we need to talk about this."
Chichiri stiffened up slightly, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck bristle up in defense. He didn't want to talk about it. Why can't you just let it drop? Underneath his mask, his brow furrowed, but he put on a light voice in hopes of deterring the irritated bandit. "Okay, we'll talk later, no da? I'm okay, really. I just want to––"
Without a warning, Tasuki reached forward to touch the monk's pale hand. Chichiri pulled away quickly in fear, then laughed lightly at his own reaction.
"Bullshit," Tasuki growled harshly.
"Nani?"
"I said bullshit, Chichiri! Will you just take off that damn mask and face me!" His voice raised loudly as he felt a flush on his face. He was so angry with Chichiri for just pretending to be his usual, cheerful self when it was painfully obvious that he wasn't.
Chichiri didn't respond to the bandit's request. Instead, he went to stand up. He didn't want anyone to know the pain that he was fighting off every minute of every waking hour. He wanted to leave the brutal past behind him. The secret affair was too overwhelming and no one else should have to share his shameful burden.
Tasuki grabbed hold of the older seishi and pulled him back onto the bed despite the monk's resistance. He moved from the chair to straddle the frightened Chichiri, pushing him back harshly into the pillows. With one hand he traced his fingers over the edge of the mage's face, finding the ridge of the mask, then pulling it off abruptly.
"Don't hide from me! I deserve more from you than that!" He looked upon his unmasked lover only to feel his heart breaking even more.
Please, stop Tasuki. Don't do this to me... please.
The mage's jaw was clenched tautly, his bottom lip quivering uncontrollably. His eye was closed tightly, but a small stream of water trickled over the edge and fell down the side of his face. His heart thudded harshly in his chest, it's uneven, frightening rhythm pulsating the immobilizing fear in his body.Compassion rushed over Tasuki. "Oh, Chichiri," he said tenderly. He let his hand move from the edge of his face to wipe away the tears that fell on the cheek. He let his fingers wander lightly across the monk's feature's, resting them lightly across the beautiful scar that stretched across one eye and over the thin nose. "You're so beautiful."
Tasuki felt the body underneath him suddenly relax. He stopped abruptly when he realized what was happening. One watery blue eye stared through him lifelessly. The only movement he felt was the uneven breaths that shook his chest. Chichiri slipped back into his safe haven. Away from the pain that his body said was almost surely awaiting him. I'm sorry, Tasuki. Forgive me.
Unbiased tears slipped down his cheek and onto the pillow behind him. Tasuki began crying, too. He got up quickly, only pausing momentarily to look back to the monk's still form before running once again from the room.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
~
Tasuki's knees ached from sitting on them for so long. His head was bent down in prayer as small pleas escaped his lips. He couldn't even remember the last time he had been in a shrine. Out of everyone, he thought miserably, he was the last one to be praying to Suzaku. He never was a very "holy" man. But Chichiri was. And he would do anything to have the monk back to the way he used to be.
His continual murmurs had brought the attention of Nuriko into the temple. "Tasuki?"
He paused his chanting momentarily. He looked up to the golden phoenix that glistened in front of him from the numerous candles that were lit throughout the dark shrine. "Do you think that he'll help me," he questioned softly.
Nuriko came up from behind and kneeled next to his fellow seishi. "I think so. You are one of the Suzaku Seven, after all."
The words were of little comfort as the bandit let out a nervous laugh. "Then he should of protected us too, right? I mean, we do fight and all that crap for him. You think that he would keep us safe, wouldn't he?!"
Nuriko placed a comforting hand on Tasuki's shoulder and squeezed in support, letting his friend speak his peace.
"I mean, I can't even.... I can't even touch him without him shutting down." His voice dropped a few tones and he shook his head in confusion. "I don't know what to do."
Nuriko looked upon the statue of Suzaku, wishing that he had the answers to help his fellow seishi. Suzaku, please. Hear his prayers. "Maybe he just needs time."
"But... he can't even look at me without closing off, or wearing that stupid mask of his. I'm so damn mad at myself!" His clenched fist hit the marble floor hard, causing the echo of the blow to rattle around the dark temple.
"Look, I'm gonna give you my little piece of advice whether you like it or not." He paused. When he heard no form of objection, he continued. "I know what happened to Chichiri. In fact, we all do. And we all care deeply about him. The one thing that he needs now is not physical contact, you know. That'll most likely brings back memories of... well."
Tasuki's gritted his teeth and nodded.
Nuriko continued. "I think that maybe the best thing for him is to know that someone cares. His injuries to his body are healed, but you have to think about the wounds of his soul. Let him know that you're still there for him no matter what." Nuriko stood up and brushed off his long garments, preparing to leave.
"Hey, Nuriko?"
"Hai?"
Tasuki snickered in spite of himself as the irony of the situation sunk in. "Who are you to be givin' advice on relationships, anyway?"
Nuriko's light laughter filled the dark halls and Tasuki couldn't help but feel better. "I'm still working on that," he replied good-naturedly. "There's always hope!" He began to walk out the shrine's entry when he spoke again in a slightly more serious tone. "Remember that, okay?"
After few more minutes of quiet meditation, Tasuki too got up to leave. He cast his eyes once more on the statue of his god. Suzaku, give me strength.
~
Chichiri blinked through the haze of another fitful sleep to be staring out the window. He noted, with some relief, that the rain had stopped. Perhaps it was only momentarily, but it had stopped for now, at least. He had "slept" the night away. He could barely call it restful because of the hideous visions he was plagued with. He awoke every time more tired then when he had first tried to rest. He rubbed his wrists unconsciously as his contemplation drifted from his nightmares to thoughts of the present. I wonder where Tasuki is?
He hadn't seen his fiery seishi in a few days. He knew that he had hurt him deeply, and he frowned at the thought. He should have just taken off his mask. But he couldn't. It was like a safety net to him – something that he hadn't relied on for awhile, but something that he found painfully necessary now.
That's when he heard a sigh from behind him. He rolled over to see Tasuki's sleepy gaze settling warmly on him. "'Morning," he yawned quietly.
"Wha... when did you get here?" Chichiri was slightly taken by surprise. He had almost convinced himself that he had scared Tasuki away for good. But now he saw him, sitting next to his bed. His eyes had slight circles under them, like he hadn't slept in awhile.
"I came to see ya last night, but you were already asleep." His words were very soft and compassionate. "I just thought I would wait until you woke up."
"You've been watching over me all night," Chichiri asked, slightly embarrassed.
"Hai...well. It wouldn't be the first time." A small blush painted the bandit's face at his confession. If it weren't for the mask, Tasuki could almost see the same red on the monk's face as well. He wanted him to take it off. He really thought that the mage was quite extraordinary – scar and all. But he dared not bring that up again.
Chichiri opened his mouth to speak. He wanted to apologize some how for his reactions, but a wave of Tasuki's hand moved him to silence.
"Look, Chichiri. I don't know all of what happened to ya'. And you know what – the hell with it. It's not that important." He looked up to see if he still had the monk's attention before continuing. "I just want you to know that I'm here for you. I know that you'll need time and all... but whether it's a week or a year, I'll still be here. Well... maybe not right here, but around. I never meant to hurt you."
"Tasuki..." Chichiri interjected quietly.
"No." He waved his hand once again and stood up. "You don't hafta say anything. I pushed you too far and you weren't ready. I kick myself every time I think of it. After all that you've been through, it was selfish of me to say what I said – to say that I deserved more from you. The truth is, I don't. You deserve better."
"Tasuki?" A new kind of fear rose up in Chichiri's throat. Am I going to lose you now? "What are—"
"Please! I'm not done yet." The monk quietly obeyed. "The thought of losing you is more than I can bear, but I'm willing to, if it will make you better. I can't live knowing that yer not happy. All I ever wanted was to make you happy. So I'm gonna be leaving for awhile. I've already told the emperor and all. They'll know how to contact me. I just... I just wanted to let you know that..." He paused before he spoke again. He had never said the words before, always afraid of the commitment that would lie beyond them. But all he would be doing now was speaking the truth. "I love you, Chichiri. I don't say this for anything in return, I just wanted you to know." He turned to walk away
Those three words did more to heal Chichiri than anything Mitsukake could have ever done. He reached out and grabbed the edge of Tasuki's overcoat, causing him to turn around. Chichiri bit down his fear and grabbed the bandit's hand, pulling him back to sit in the chair. He held on to his hand, feeling the warmth of the gentle touch spread over his body.
"Promise me something," he pleaded quietly.
Tasuki nodded, prompting him to continue.
"Promise me that you'll watch over me while I sleep from now on."
"Hai." He looked down as the monk's hand intertwined his fingers with his own. His heart beat rapidly at the steady touch of the mage. "Always..."
With his other hand, the monk went to remove his mask.
"No," Tasuki commanded softly. He reached up and pulled the hand away from his face. "Not until yer ready. It's not important."
Chichiri nodded, admiring Tasuki's control and almost overwhelming compassion. He laid back down in the bed, a comforting peace surrounding him. It had been over a week since he had returned to the palace, and it was only at that moment that he truly felt safe. His eyes drooped with the sudden release of shame and fear. He was safe now. Tasuki would watch over him.
Before he fell into sleep's warm embrace, a smile traced his lips. "Ai shiteiru," he whispered softly before sweet dreams erased the scars of bitter nightmares.
Tasuki laid his head down next to the monk's their hands still entwined together. "Sweet dreams, Chichiri. Sweet dreams..."
~Fini~
Please leave a review. Even if it is only a word or two, I would really appreciate it! "^-~"
