Everyone wears masks. Mine is more physical. But it changes me.
Gives me the illusion of being someone else. When I am Sieryuu
schichiseishi Tomo, I am feared by all. I have a sharp tongue and I am
ruthless. I am almost like Nakago. Yet without my make-up, I am just Ryo
Chuin. Pathetic, really. I am but a mere boy. One without strength. One
who is so weak he cannot speak for himself even. One always being used.
No, even as Tomo I am used. There is my exterior self. Tomo. Without a care. Always cackling. Fearless. But even as Tomo Nakago sees beneath my mask. He sees me for me.
Pathetic. He manipulates me...probably hates me, and yet I love him. I offer him all of myself. I work for him. I suffer for him. Pathetic.
My mask hides all my secrets, just as everyone else's does. Strange. As I watch this boy...I wonder. Is he the same as me? Does he wear a mask? Does beneath all that magnificent purple hair and energy lie a weakling...does beneath all of that lay fear?
He stirs, his blanket drops a bit and the moon splashes its pale and yet brilliant light on his chest. He's tossing, turning, his breathing becoming more and more shallow. Schichiseishi are suppose to be strong. But he's having nightmares. I cackle softly, though inside I secretly wish to be human again...like him. Inside my heart, which has been worn away by the years, I wish to have emotion again. I wish for a regard for life, for people...for myself.
I leap from my place on the high window of the tower-like room he is sleeping in, landing as gracefully as a cat. Those years I spent perfecting my skills as a dancer and opera performer finally pay off.
I hesitate a moment...returning to my pathetic past as Ryo Chuin...then go over to the bed to watch the sleeping figure. He is laying on his side, his hands...more specifically wrists...act as a pillow.
That same nightmare again. The same recurring nightmare in which I see Hotohori leave me. Were I awake, I would be smirking at my stupidity. My stupidity for fussing over a silly dream. One that has already come true...to my dismay.
Pathetic. My yearning for someone who can never be mine is pathetic. Hotohori does not love me. I know it. I accept it. But I am not happy. I care for Miaka. She's...my friend. But if she did not want Hotohori, why did she have to capture his heart? Especially so easily. Why couldn't she leave him for someone else. Someone...like me.
Nuriko, you're pathetic. These words wake me up. I need a drink. Badly.
His eyes struggle open, but don't. They're like stuck curtains. I should know, I think ruefully to myself. Many times that happened to our troupe. The curtain would get stuck when a new scene was about to appear.
Should I run now? I can't risk being seen. But his features mesmerize me. He's so...slender. The strongest of the Suzaku seven, and yet...the most feminine in appearance. I remember when people made jokes at me for being so...female-like. Was he taunted as I was.
I shake my head. Am I actually comparing myself to this Suzaku schichiseishi? My enemy? Hm. My enemy. Perhaps we would not be enemies...in another life. Were we like the Suzaku schichiseishi? Were they like us? Perhaps if we saw what we had in common, we wouldn't be warring.
His eyes open. I should run. I stand before he can see clearly and jump from the balcony close by.
I watch the balcony from my spot on the ground. I will see you again, Suzaku schichiseishi Nuriko, I think to myself before disappearing in the loneliness of the forest that is so familiar to me.
AN: This was not really meant to be a romance fic. Nor angst. Or...anything. It was on a whim. (As most of my fics seem to be these days.) I was trying to show that despite the fact that the Sieryuu and Suzaku seishi are bitter enemies, they do have similarities. Some are completely different from each other, of course, but some are the same. Even if it is in the slightest bit. I chose to compare Nuriko and Tomo because they are the most similar. Both are gay (at least Nuriko is at the beginning) and both of them are in love with men who not only do not return their love, but love WOMEN, which is probably an insult to them. And the two men are the head of the social class for the schichiseishi order. Nakago is the highest ranking shogun of Kutou/Kotou and Hotohori is the emperor of Hong-Nan/Konan. They are the most feminine of the male schichiseishi for each side. If you put Tomo's hair down, he'd probably look a lot like a girl. And he's got great taste (something rarely found in men). Nuriko practically WAS a girl for half of his life. He managed to pass for a lady named Kourin, didn't he? So...well...you understand. I'm not quite sure what genre to put this into. It's not general because there's not any romance or anything like that in it. It isn't AU, unless in the sense that this never really happened and never would. They're still schichiseishi, despite the lack of use of powers and etcetera. But I suppose this will have to be put in the general section because that's all I can do for it.
Disclaimer: Fushigi isn't mine, but I'm not taking any credit for the plot or characters, so don't sue.
No, even as Tomo I am used. There is my exterior self. Tomo. Without a care. Always cackling. Fearless. But even as Tomo Nakago sees beneath my mask. He sees me for me.
Pathetic. He manipulates me...probably hates me, and yet I love him. I offer him all of myself. I work for him. I suffer for him. Pathetic.
My mask hides all my secrets, just as everyone else's does. Strange. As I watch this boy...I wonder. Is he the same as me? Does he wear a mask? Does beneath all that magnificent purple hair and energy lie a weakling...does beneath all of that lay fear?
He stirs, his blanket drops a bit and the moon splashes its pale and yet brilliant light on his chest. He's tossing, turning, his breathing becoming more and more shallow. Schichiseishi are suppose to be strong. But he's having nightmares. I cackle softly, though inside I secretly wish to be human again...like him. Inside my heart, which has been worn away by the years, I wish to have emotion again. I wish for a regard for life, for people...for myself.
I leap from my place on the high window of the tower-like room he is sleeping in, landing as gracefully as a cat. Those years I spent perfecting my skills as a dancer and opera performer finally pay off.
I hesitate a moment...returning to my pathetic past as Ryo Chuin...then go over to the bed to watch the sleeping figure. He is laying on his side, his hands...more specifically wrists...act as a pillow.
That same nightmare again. The same recurring nightmare in which I see Hotohori leave me. Were I awake, I would be smirking at my stupidity. My stupidity for fussing over a silly dream. One that has already come true...to my dismay.
Pathetic. My yearning for someone who can never be mine is pathetic. Hotohori does not love me. I know it. I accept it. But I am not happy. I care for Miaka. She's...my friend. But if she did not want Hotohori, why did she have to capture his heart? Especially so easily. Why couldn't she leave him for someone else. Someone...like me.
Nuriko, you're pathetic. These words wake me up. I need a drink. Badly.
His eyes struggle open, but don't. They're like stuck curtains. I should know, I think ruefully to myself. Many times that happened to our troupe. The curtain would get stuck when a new scene was about to appear.
Should I run now? I can't risk being seen. But his features mesmerize me. He's so...slender. The strongest of the Suzaku seven, and yet...the most feminine in appearance. I remember when people made jokes at me for being so...female-like. Was he taunted as I was.
I shake my head. Am I actually comparing myself to this Suzaku schichiseishi? My enemy? Hm. My enemy. Perhaps we would not be enemies...in another life. Were we like the Suzaku schichiseishi? Were they like us? Perhaps if we saw what we had in common, we wouldn't be warring.
His eyes open. I should run. I stand before he can see clearly and jump from the balcony close by.
I watch the balcony from my spot on the ground. I will see you again, Suzaku schichiseishi Nuriko, I think to myself before disappearing in the loneliness of the forest that is so familiar to me.
AN: This was not really meant to be a romance fic. Nor angst. Or...anything. It was on a whim. (As most of my fics seem to be these days.) I was trying to show that despite the fact that the Sieryuu and Suzaku seishi are bitter enemies, they do have similarities. Some are completely different from each other, of course, but some are the same. Even if it is in the slightest bit. I chose to compare Nuriko and Tomo because they are the most similar. Both are gay (at least Nuriko is at the beginning) and both of them are in love with men who not only do not return their love, but love WOMEN, which is probably an insult to them. And the two men are the head of the social class for the schichiseishi order. Nakago is the highest ranking shogun of Kutou/Kotou and Hotohori is the emperor of Hong-Nan/Konan. They are the most feminine of the male schichiseishi for each side. If you put Tomo's hair down, he'd probably look a lot like a girl. And he's got great taste (something rarely found in men). Nuriko practically WAS a girl for half of his life. He managed to pass for a lady named Kourin, didn't he? So...well...you understand. I'm not quite sure what genre to put this into. It's not general because there's not any romance or anything like that in it. It isn't AU, unless in the sense that this never really happened and never would. They're still schichiseishi, despite the lack of use of powers and etcetera. But I suppose this will have to be put in the general section because that's all I can do for it.
Disclaimer: Fushigi isn't mine, but I'm not taking any credit for the plot or characters, so don't sue.