This is a Nuriko fic... yeah, I
seem to write a lot of them... but this is one with a difference. It's
not told through Nuriko's point of view but of those who love him. His
friends, the other seishi. It's a reincarnation fic (but unrelated to my
other one, "What if"), the seishi already know each other, have their memories
and all that other stuff. You fill in the rest of the gaps.
Who I am - Acceptance
Chapter 1
::Mitsukake::
I look at Nuriko, who is balancing precariously on my office-chair. I feel half tempted to readjust him but instead joke,
"Careful. This is going to be major enough surgery without me having to operate your back as well."
Nuriko leans the chair so he uses all four of the legs again and gives me a sheepish smile.
"Did you get the information I sent you?" I ask. He nods. "Did you understand it all?" He nods again.
"At least I think so," he says, "although I had to use a dictionary."
"Sorry about all the technical terms. That's medical-talk for you," I say, feeling awkward.
"That's okay. At least I can ask you what stuff means without feeling stupid. I'm glad you're my doctor," Nuriko says, smiling at me. I look back at him, examining his clothing choice for the day. I could only describe it as "experimentation in pinks". He made dressing an art form, sometimes only because what he wore looked somewhat akin to modern art. Today was better than most, he looked pretty normal. Apparently, he dressed in accordance to his mood. All I can say is God help us when he starts wearing feather boas. Not that Suzaku has much to do with this. I don't know what happened to the fashion sense he had in the last life, he dresses just as beautifully now, just very extravagantly and outrageously.
I realise I have been staring at him and say, hurridly,
"I'm sorry, I was preoccupied." He shoots me a smile and I relax again. "Just reflecting on times gone by."
"Stop reflecting, you're not a mirror!" he giggles. "I thought we were talking about me here!"
"Always self-centred!" I laugh.
"Well, I am paying you for this consultation!" Nuriko points out.
"I would do it for free," I say, quietly.
"Don't. You did enough free healing in the last life. How would you ever make any money in this life if you didn't charge people? I mean, I see people in the street who desperately need a makeover but I just give them my card and a winning smile. You can't do things for free, darlin', even if you do feel tempted," he said. He did have a point. His beauty-salon was the best in town, not to mention the richest. Hotohori's hair-styling and massaging techniques, combined with Nuriko's facial, makeup and massaging had earnt them much success. They'd even had to employ another massagist, Soi, and were training a new make-up artist, Tomo.
"Chichiri would say 'money doesn't matter, no da'," I say, enjoying the debate and delay from the inevitable.
"He also is a psychiatrist and earns more than the rest of us put together," he points out, "and you're avoiding the topic."
"Are you sure you want to do this?" I ask, serious again.
"I have to do this," he said.
"You do understand that this is going to be very painful, probably the most pain you will ever suffer?" I ask. He gives me a wry smile.
"As bad as dying in the past life?" he asks. I feel a pang of pain for not saving him then. "I'm sorry," he says, noticing my face. I take a deep breath in.
"Perhaps. Perhaps worse, as it will last for months afterwards," I reply. I know how much this is going to hurt him. I have seen others coming out of surgery. They were on morphine all day, every day, for about a month or more.
"I am strong," he says.
"I know you are," I say, softly.
"Mitsukake, I know it won't be the same. I know it won't ever be complete. I know it. But I must do this," he says.
"I know." I change the subject, knowing that topic is now closed. "I'll send you to a psychiatrist. Sadly, they have to prove you sane before you can undergo surgery."
"Oh dear, that'd be hard!" Nuriko laughs. "I guess I'll have to look reasonably normal, huh?"
"Don't worry, I'm sending you to Chichiri. He's used to it," I reply.
"Lucky," Nuriko comments.
"How will you tell the others?" I ask.
"Well, you already know, and so will Chichiri, soon," Nuriko says, thoughtfully.
"You'll have to tell them soon," I remind him.
"I'll probably tell Miaka first," Nuriko says, "because she'd accept it straight away. Then Tamahome. Then Tasuki. Wow, he's going to flip! Then Chiriko. Poor kid, I don't know how he'll cope with it. Hotohori last. He'll be the hardest to tell."
I give him a sympathetic look. I don't say 'they'll understand' because I know, deep down, that perhaps they might not. The bonds between us are just as strong in this life as the last, but this is different. Deeper. I hope Nuriko can cope. He has to, right?
"Well... back onto the details of the surgery," I say, changing the subject again, "what was it you wanted explained?'
