DISCLAIMER: I am currently involved in a rather lengthy law dispute with Yuu Watase...but, until that clears up and my blackmailing photos have had a chance to be aired...well, none of this belongs to me. Alas.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is an AU fic. Now, personally, I don't believe in messing around with episode 33--Nuriko's death is one of the most important aspects of the series, and causes a lot of growth in Miaka, the others, and the show itself as a whole. However...I often find myself wondering what might've happened if Nuriko had listened to Tamahome and let HIM go after the shinzaho. Thus, this fic will be devoted to that very endeavor. This is the beginning...but, I'll be working on the rest of it whenever I can. So. That's all for me...read, review, and enjoy. ^_^.
----
"Only You"
by Ryuen
~ ~ ~
The sky was clear and bright, the sunlight a cool stream of streaky brightness through the lightly-blowing snow.
A lone figure stood silently before the inn window, gazing out into the angled snow drifts with glazed, unseeing eyes. The nearby bustle of his companions' movements was the only sound aside from the chill, sweeping rush of the winter wind...it brushed the dampened hair back from his forehead, swept a cool, icy balm over his skin...made the disturbing realizations of the previous day seem less important, less painful and frightening.
//You're just a character in a book...\\
He shuddered, wrapping slender arms around himself and letting out a soft sigh. Behind him, he could hear the slosh of Nuriko pouring tea into a mug, accompanied by the older man's soft humming...but, aside from that, the room was silent. He turned, arms still folded lightly over his chest, and studied the violet-haired seishi's movements--he watched as Nuriko poured the last of the tea into a narrow porcelain mug, as he swept back into the kitchen area of the small room and returned the teapot to its place in the corner, as he returned to his seat and lowered himself into it. Nuriko sat there for a moment, gazing into the bubbling depths of his tea, before finally noticing the younger man's stare, glancing up from the steaming mug.
He offered a slight smile. "Ne, Tama-chan," he said softly. His slender fingers rubbed gently at the sides of the mug, turned it back and forth on the table. "Still don't feel like talking about it?"
Tamahome stared at him for a moment, uncomprehending. "Hm?" he managed at last, taking a short step away from the window. "About what?"
Nuriko grinned, brought the mug to his lips and took a long, gratifying gulp. "About what's been bugging you since yesterday," he explained briefly, those dark, rosy violet eyes glittering in the early morning sunlight. The smile softened slightly. "You know it'll drive you crazy until you tell someone, ne, Tamahome?"
He considered it for a long moment. He considered sinking down into that chair, folding his hands onto the table, and telling Nuriko the whole story--about running into Yui...about being a character in a book...about all his fears that he and Miaka might never be able to be together. He considered, very seriously, telling Nuriko about all of it...but, then almost immediately decided against it. No...today was for finding the shinzaho, for finally having the means to call Suzaku,...for getting things back to how they were supposed to be. And...for defeating Nakago. Yes. For that most of all.
Besides...considering what they'd talked about last night...he doubted that Nuriko was the most ideal person to be confiding in about his fears over he and Miaka staying together.
//I found myself in love with Miaka as a man...\\
Tamahome sighed, leaned his back gently against the nearby wall. He closed his eyes, very lightly, well aware of Nuriko's concerned stare pressing into him. "Iie," he said at last, managing a small smile. "Arrigato...but, I don't want to talk about it. At least, not right now." He cleared his throat, straightened and strode to the side of the table. "But...after we find the shinzaho..." He smiled. "Maybe then."
Nuriko matched the smile, reaching forward to slide a second mug of tea to Tamahome's VVside of the table. "I'll hold you to that, Tama-chan." The smile widened into a grin, and Nuriko placed both hands around the sides of his own mug, lifted it into the air. "Come on," he stated firmly. "Drink up. You've gotta get something into your system to cancel out all those Nuriko Specials."
At the mention of their unexpected drinking binge the night before, Tamahome let out a low groan, pressed a hand to his forehead. "Right," he muttered, grabbing onto his own mug and bringing it to his lips. It tasted surprisingly good, a dark, rich tea with a light splash of peppermint tingling through. He smiled, allowing himself a long moment to savor the taste.
Noticing his approval, Nuriko nodded, took his own long, dragging sip. "Delicious, ne?" He winked. "Secret harem recipe. Only the best for the possible wives of the emperor..." A boyish grin crept over his lips. "Or possible husbands."
Tamahome watched the older man for a long moment in silence, taking in the short, cropped violet of his hair, the graceful ease of his movements, the slight smile still hanging from his lips. Finally, he let out a soft breath, turned a speculative eye to his companion. "Ne...Nuriko..."
Nuriko glanced up at him, raised his eyebrows. "Hm?"
"Last night...what you said about Miaka and me..."
The older man smiled, lowered his head slightly and closed his eyes. "I meant it," he said softly. "Every word. I want Miaka to be happy." The smile twisted a bit, turned bittersweet...but, it was still a smile...and still bright and pure and true. "Miaka can't be happy with me, Tamahome. She loves you...and only you. Not Hotohori-sama...not Tasuki...not me...you. Only you." Nuriko looked up, then, and his eyes were large and serious. "Make her happy, ne? For all of us."
Tamahome nodded, a soft, grateful smile touching his lips. "I will, Nuriko. For as long as I live."
Nuriko smiled. "That's the spirit." He rose to his feet, took a moment to deposit his mug on the edge of the counter. "Now, come on. Miaka's waiting outside with the horses."
The younger seishi blinked, rose hurriedly to his feet. "By herself?" he demanded, eyes wide and worried. "A-After what happened yesterday, she's out there ALONE?"
Nuriko grinned, took a step forward and patted Tamahome lightly on the shoulder. "Ne, calm down. She's right outside."
Tamahome sighed, following the older man out the door and into the hallway. "What an idiot," he muttered after a moment. "She almost gets killed yesterday and then she runs right out by herself again..."
A glimmer of pain crossed Nuriko's face...and Tamahome stopped, a sudden memory striking into him--last night, just after they stumbled into the room to go to sleep...he remembered gazing out from the soft sheets of his bed, catching a glimpse of the other man undressing for bed. He'd been standing near the cool, closed glass of the window, the soft silver flickers of moonlight bathing him in a soft, statuesque glow, and Tamahome had watched as he gingerly lifted the heavy blue tunic over his head, winced as if in pain...
And, there'd been a thick wrap of bandages varound his left arm...and a dark, angry splotch of red peering through the fabric.
"Your arm," Tamahome said quietly.
Nuriko turned, glanced at him as if in surprise. "It's not bad," he said, shrugging slightly. "Just a scratch."
"You sure?"
"Hai, hai...ne, worry about Miaka, not me."
Tamahome let out a soft sigh...but said nothing, merely followed Nuriko down the stairs, into the lower level of the inn...out into the fresh, clear morning.
His jaw clenched. //It should've been me, fighting that beast...not you, Nuriko. It should've been me.\\
---
*More to come soon. But, until then...let me know what you think. Arrigato! ^_^. ^_^.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is an AU fic. Now, personally, I don't believe in messing around with episode 33--Nuriko's death is one of the most important aspects of the series, and causes a lot of growth in Miaka, the others, and the show itself as a whole. However...I often find myself wondering what might've happened if Nuriko had listened to Tamahome and let HIM go after the shinzaho. Thus, this fic will be devoted to that very endeavor. This is the beginning...but, I'll be working on the rest of it whenever I can. So. That's all for me...read, review, and enjoy. ^_^.
----
"Only You"
by Ryuen
~ ~ ~
The sky was clear and bright, the sunlight a cool stream of streaky brightness through the lightly-blowing snow.
A lone figure stood silently before the inn window, gazing out into the angled snow drifts with glazed, unseeing eyes. The nearby bustle of his companions' movements was the only sound aside from the chill, sweeping rush of the winter wind...it brushed the dampened hair back from his forehead, swept a cool, icy balm over his skin...made the disturbing realizations of the previous day seem less important, less painful and frightening.
//You're just a character in a book...\\
He shuddered, wrapping slender arms around himself and letting out a soft sigh. Behind him, he could hear the slosh of Nuriko pouring tea into a mug, accompanied by the older man's soft humming...but, aside from that, the room was silent. He turned, arms still folded lightly over his chest, and studied the violet-haired seishi's movements--he watched as Nuriko poured the last of the tea into a narrow porcelain mug, as he swept back into the kitchen area of the small room and returned the teapot to its place in the corner, as he returned to his seat and lowered himself into it. Nuriko sat there for a moment, gazing into the bubbling depths of his tea, before finally noticing the younger man's stare, glancing up from the steaming mug.
He offered a slight smile. "Ne, Tama-chan," he said softly. His slender fingers rubbed gently at the sides of the mug, turned it back and forth on the table. "Still don't feel like talking about it?"
Tamahome stared at him for a moment, uncomprehending. "Hm?" he managed at last, taking a short step away from the window. "About what?"
Nuriko grinned, brought the mug to his lips and took a long, gratifying gulp. "About what's been bugging you since yesterday," he explained briefly, those dark, rosy violet eyes glittering in the early morning sunlight. The smile softened slightly. "You know it'll drive you crazy until you tell someone, ne, Tamahome?"
He considered it for a long moment. He considered sinking down into that chair, folding his hands onto the table, and telling Nuriko the whole story--about running into Yui...about being a character in a book...about all his fears that he and Miaka might never be able to be together. He considered, very seriously, telling Nuriko about all of it...but, then almost immediately decided against it. No...today was for finding the shinzaho, for finally having the means to call Suzaku,...for getting things back to how they were supposed to be. And...for defeating Nakago. Yes. For that most of all.
Besides...considering what they'd talked about last night...he doubted that Nuriko was the most ideal person to be confiding in about his fears over he and Miaka staying together.
//I found myself in love with Miaka as a man...\\
Tamahome sighed, leaned his back gently against the nearby wall. He closed his eyes, very lightly, well aware of Nuriko's concerned stare pressing into him. "Iie," he said at last, managing a small smile. "Arrigato...but, I don't want to talk about it. At least, not right now." He cleared his throat, straightened and strode to the side of the table. "But...after we find the shinzaho..." He smiled. "Maybe then."
Nuriko matched the smile, reaching forward to slide a second mug of tea to Tamahome's VVside of the table. "I'll hold you to that, Tama-chan." The smile widened into a grin, and Nuriko placed both hands around the sides of his own mug, lifted it into the air. "Come on," he stated firmly. "Drink up. You've gotta get something into your system to cancel out all those Nuriko Specials."
At the mention of their unexpected drinking binge the night before, Tamahome let out a low groan, pressed a hand to his forehead. "Right," he muttered, grabbing onto his own mug and bringing it to his lips. It tasted surprisingly good, a dark, rich tea with a light splash of peppermint tingling through. He smiled, allowing himself a long moment to savor the taste.
Noticing his approval, Nuriko nodded, took his own long, dragging sip. "Delicious, ne?" He winked. "Secret harem recipe. Only the best for the possible wives of the emperor..." A boyish grin crept over his lips. "Or possible husbands."
Tamahome watched the older man for a long moment in silence, taking in the short, cropped violet of his hair, the graceful ease of his movements, the slight smile still hanging from his lips. Finally, he let out a soft breath, turned a speculative eye to his companion. "Ne...Nuriko..."
Nuriko glanced up at him, raised his eyebrows. "Hm?"
"Last night...what you said about Miaka and me..."
The older man smiled, lowered his head slightly and closed his eyes. "I meant it," he said softly. "Every word. I want Miaka to be happy." The smile twisted a bit, turned bittersweet...but, it was still a smile...and still bright and pure and true. "Miaka can't be happy with me, Tamahome. She loves you...and only you. Not Hotohori-sama...not Tasuki...not me...you. Only you." Nuriko looked up, then, and his eyes were large and serious. "Make her happy, ne? For all of us."
Tamahome nodded, a soft, grateful smile touching his lips. "I will, Nuriko. For as long as I live."
Nuriko smiled. "That's the spirit." He rose to his feet, took a moment to deposit his mug on the edge of the counter. "Now, come on. Miaka's waiting outside with the horses."
The younger seishi blinked, rose hurriedly to his feet. "By herself?" he demanded, eyes wide and worried. "A-After what happened yesterday, she's out there ALONE?"
Nuriko grinned, took a step forward and patted Tamahome lightly on the shoulder. "Ne, calm down. She's right outside."
Tamahome sighed, following the older man out the door and into the hallway. "What an idiot," he muttered after a moment. "She almost gets killed yesterday and then she runs right out by herself again..."
A glimmer of pain crossed Nuriko's face...and Tamahome stopped, a sudden memory striking into him--last night, just after they stumbled into the room to go to sleep...he remembered gazing out from the soft sheets of his bed, catching a glimpse of the other man undressing for bed. He'd been standing near the cool, closed glass of the window, the soft silver flickers of moonlight bathing him in a soft, statuesque glow, and Tamahome had watched as he gingerly lifted the heavy blue tunic over his head, winced as if in pain...
And, there'd been a thick wrap of bandages varound his left arm...and a dark, angry splotch of red peering through the fabric.
"Your arm," Tamahome said quietly.
Nuriko turned, glanced at him as if in surprise. "It's not bad," he said, shrugging slightly. "Just a scratch."
"You sure?"
"Hai, hai...ne, worry about Miaka, not me."
Tamahome let out a soft sigh...but said nothing, merely followed Nuriko down the stairs, into the lower level of the inn...out into the fresh, clear morning.
His jaw clenched. //It should've been me, fighting that beast...not you, Nuriko. It should've been me.\\
---
*More to come soon. But, until then...let me know what you think. Arrigato! ^_^. ^_^.